Devil In My Head
by Sweet Misa
Summary: "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled at Irene's words feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly.
1. Chapter 1

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Clearly I'm an idiot. *sigh* I have way too many ideas popping into my head. My main inspiration for this sort of came off of Ambur's lovely werewolf fic, _Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf_. It's absolutely fantastic! I loved this idea way to much to keep it to myself. So here we are. Hopefully you guys will enjoy it as much.

**Chapter One**

Just one bite. It'd be worth it.

Molly Hooper was constantly telling herself that. She glanced over the man on her table that evening. He had a blast to the chest. His wife had taken his hunting rifle and shot him right in the chest without mercy. Case closed. The hole was right above his ribcage below the heart. The pathologist could see all the red and dark purplish bits that came with the territory of inspecting the chest of a shot gun blast.

Mr. Donahue was dead already. He wouldn't know. Certainly his wife wasn't in a caring mood. He didn't have children. His parents were long dead. Colleagues he did have wouldn't be holding an open casket viewing, so why not take a little nibble? Her stomach churned with a murmur. She closed her eyes in a wince. A larger noise grumbled. She held her stomach hoping to silence it.

"Yes I know." She was glad no one was around to hear her painful hunger sounds.

The night shifts always tended to be the hardest on other people, but Molly Hooper was quite used to the nights. Excluding those nights in which the moon was at its fullest. On those nights Molly would find some excuse to ignore her frequent night shifts. She'd have to embrace her true nature in those nights in order to stop from going out of her mind.

One of those nights was closing in very soon. It made Molly's true wolf nature bubble to the surface. Dead flesh was not as appetizing as fresh meat, but she had not eaten fresh in so long that she didn't seem to mind the difference. She dipped her nose slowly into the open wound. She sniffed feeling a chill of regret and longing wash over her. She peered around her before continuing down the dark road.

She took a bite. The blood felt sticky around her gums, but the skin felt good, tender. The force of the blast had kneaded the meat into a healthy appetizing texture. She tore at it unintentionally feeling her claws begin to extend, blackened and curved. Molly stopped herself from enjoying more of Mr. Donahue when her ears noted the sound of heels. Her face and body became alert. She managed to tear herself away from the dead the man in front of her to stand up right and attentive. She wiped a sleeve across her mouth. If anyone asked she had a bloody very dead body in front of her to prove her innocence of blood on her sleeve.

"Oh hell." Her nose wrinkled at the scent of heavy perfume and cockiness that sauntered through the door.

"Isn't this lovely?" Irene Adler stood tall and unassuming in the entrance of the mortuary.

Her body was the same curvy version Molly Hooper had envisioned on her when they were young. She had her hair up in an almost hornlike design. It suited her, though her white clothing did not. Molly always knew Irene liked to make her skin look deathly pale. It made everyone around her think she was innocent when in fact she was more demon like then anyone else on the planet. Her soft blue eyes could have fooled anyone into thinking she was merely curious of an old friend's work space. Molly let a sorrowful grumble escape her throat. She knew Irene's presence was one of intimidation.

"What are you doing in London?" Molly demanded. "Aren't you supposed to be in Bulgaria?" Irene's eyes waited to fall on Molly as if her presence was far from important. She walked over slowly to the young woman taking her time and making each step hit the floor with precision.

"Old friends usually greet each other with warm regards." Irene smiled so sickly it made Molly want to retch her recently devoured meal.

"They do. And it would happen if we were friends." Molly had never truly cared for the Adler woman.

She was a wolf as well, but not a kind wolf. She was a cunningly seductive individual who used her power for all the wrong reasons. Though her family, like Molly's, was part of a powerful reign of wolves and therefore their parents had forced their company. Molly had never liked Irene's cruel tricks, especially on the poor boys she tortured. Irene stopped a few inches from the woman giving her a little twist of a smile. Her own eyes landed on Molly's lips. Molly looked at Irene with slight confusion as Irene wiped a finger over the younger woman's lower lip. The finger was blood red.

"Dear me, Miss Hooper." Her tongue ticked the roof of her mouth. She showed Molly her bloody finger. "Have we been snacking at work?" Her dark eyebrows rose with fake alarm. She suckled on the finger. "Mmm, not as good as fresh." She popped her finger from her lips with complete desire. Extended claws played with the inners of Molly's corpse on the table. Irene fiddled.

"You keep your hands to yourself in my place of business, Adler." Molly's teeth were clenched in anger. Irene, though amused by the reaction, pulled her fingers away from the corpse. She licked each finger in front of the pathologist before abruptly turning on her heels arms folded.

"I was in the area and thought I should pay a visit to my oldest friend." The dark haired woman swung her hips turning her head only slightly to regard the other wolf.

"Friend?" She questioned letting wrinkles cross her brow. "Since when?" Molly shook her head taking her hands to the sheet in order to cover Mr. Donahue from her own temptation. "I thought your father told you not to come back here after –"

"My father doesn't control me." Irene stated with a beautifully confidant tone. That was the one thing about Irene Adler that Molly truly had to admire. Irene believed every word that came out of her mouth whether it was the truth or a lie. She said it with pure confidence. "And what happened to Jim wasn't my fault." She began to fiddle with some of the medicines on the shelves in an open closest. "You know there's no controlling a fresh faced wolf. Especially one as brilliantly lethal as Mr. Moriarty."

"You shouldn't have turned him." Molly wanted to scold Irene.

The last time this woman had been in London she had made a mess of the human's government with scandal, tore apart the city with murders and manipulation, and created a lethal wolf simply because she found him "utterly wicked". She had done all this in the name of boredom. That had been three years ago, when Molly had first graduated from med school. Before she had started work at St. Bart's. Before Sherlock had come into her life. Before she recognized her purpose in life was to help others and not harm them. Before all that Molly could be just as cruel and violent as Irene, but now she chose not to continue down that dark path.

She didn't need to.

"But that would've been so very boring." Her eyes rolled as she snapped up a bottle of pills. She teetered it in her grasp. Molly quickly sighed looking around, away from Irene. She could hear the footsteps coming. "Life's more interesting with a consulting criminal who has some bite to him. Isn't Molly, dear?" The pathologist crossed the room with a purpose, showing off how fast she could make it to Irene's side. She snatched the bottle from Irene's hand. The woman seemed delighted when their eyes met. Molly's had a new found sternness.

"That's not for playing." She stated. Molly gave a low gruff whisper next. "Nothing in my town is." She placed the pill bottle back on the shelf hearing his footsteps.

Irene was the first to turn. Molly could already smell him. It was hard not to. She had spent three years tipping toeing around his beautiful scent. Cinnamon aftershave. Blazing confidence. Streaks of masculine sweat perspired in the name of brain work. Not to mention the occasion droplets of formaldehyde.

"It appears Mrs. Donahue might be innocent after all." Of course she was. And Molly had just eaten up some of the evidence and here Sherlock Holmes was ready to inspect her almost meal.

"Hello." Irene let out a girlish little wave and noise. Molly turned to see Sherlock's brow crease. He was in the same coat he always wore collar flared out, navy scarf wrapped around his pale neck. She saw his eyes dart with a bit of confusion. He had a manila file in hand. Molly moved pass Irene ignoring her stance that spoke volumes she didn't want to read as of yet. Beside the way she twirled her finger in her hair was enough of a tell.

"Why do you say that?" Molly let her eyes settle onto his, though he was peering at Irene, still confused.

She begged for the consulting detective to look her way. While she was a wolf she didn't hold power over anyone's mind. He still looked to Irene, beautiful and cruel. Of course he would look at her. Three years in her presence and not once had Sherlock Holmes looked to her with anything, but mock interest. Irene was getting more interest from him then Molly had gotten in her whole time knowing the detective.

"Sherlock." She squeaked the name with zero confidence. Molly decided to take the file from him looking over it. None of it was good.

"Oh well," He finally broke contact with the cunning wolf woman. "It appears that Mrs. Donahue has a condition in which she couldn't have fired the weapon. I tried to come sooner." He passed Molly abruptly looking to the slab. "How long has he been on the table?" He unsheeted Mr. Donahue causing Molly to wince.

"Dear me," Irene said looking to the strange man. "Do you let all men defile your lab, Molly?" Sherlock looked over at the woman. Molly could see his mind working, deducing things about Irene Adler fairly quickly. He only gave a small smile.

"Spoiled rich Daddy's girl." Molly could have hugged the Holmes boy. She gave a muffled laugh. Sherlock checked on the body using the instruments the only certified person in the room had been.

"Sorry, what?" Irene sounded offended. Irene bloody Adler was offended. Molly paraded toward the body setting the file down on one of the many other tables. She stood on the other side across from Sherlock.

"This was close range." He poked the insides stretching out the flesh of poor Mr. Donahue. "There's barely any lungs to speak of." The metal tools fiddled with what was left of the blown apart lungs.

"Sorry, but did you just call me –"

"Spoiled, yes." He worked and ignored her as she crossed her arms and moved forward.

"Why do you think Mrs. Donahue couldn't have done this?" Molly blinked trying not to look at the little teeth marks she had made. "You said she had a condition."

"Yes, crippling arthritis. Doesn't know it. Came as soon as I discovered it." Sherlock looked over the body judging every little bit and piece.

Molly bit her lip trying to control her breathing. Of course Sherlock had to barge into her lab all by his lonesome when she had snacked on a body. Whenever he was with John and discovered something strange the doctor would state it was an impossibility that a bite could be on a corpse.

"Hang on." Irene sauntered in her way.

"Are you wondering how I knew you were spoiled and there by rich?" Sherlock asked not looking from his work. He turned suddenly glancing. Then he started to point. "Shoes, clothes, hair, earrings. All designer. All expensive." Irene fiddled with her earrings. "The earrings were a gift from your father. There're new, but they weren't for a special occasion. You keep fiddling with them, proud. Your father cut you off, but you managed to get those out of him. Maybe a reward for something. Maybe they were a promise, an oath, but you manipulated him into giving them to you. You're going against him. Being bad. You fiddle. You tease. You think you've won." Molly's brows rose as Irene looked nearly shocked by the statements. She moved toward him with a pleasant human speed facing only inches from a proud Sherlock Holmes.

"Oh I like you." She grinned with glee. "You think you have me all pegged."

"Am I wrong?" He wasn't. Molly knew it. Sherlock was rarely ever wrong. She knew the story from his words.

Irene had always been a daddy's girl despite what she said. She always wanted to please him. It reflexed in her choices of men, all older, all rich. Her father being a wolf had managed to gain power being an alpha in his pack and start a very successful investing group then owning a slew of banks throughout Europe. After Irene's mother had died when she was nearly six she had been all her father had. It had been Irene's job to be the best daughter until her teenage years when she got bad, defying him in every way possible. Turning a criminal like James Moriarty had been the last straw. Her father had cut her off leaving Irene to work as a dominatrix throughout Europe until she could once again gain her daddy's trust. The earrings were proof that she had. Proof that she had conned him like all the other men in her life.

"Oh no." Irene shook her head running long painted black nails down his high prominent cheekbones. "You aren't wrong." Molly saw the way her lips curled so close to Sherlock. It made the younger woman squirm. She felt a heat of anger run across her skin making her flush. Irene caught her distress from the corner of her eye. "But I don't think I've won." She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, knowing all the while that Molly could hear. "I know I have." She leaned back comfortable. Molly closed her eyes for a moment seeing how the man was looking at this woman now. She didn't want him to be attracted to Irene.

Sherlock was hers. He was in her town and therefore he was her property if she saw fit to take him, though Molly hated declaring people. Buildings, streets, food, forests, yes, but people were a wholly different thing. They were delicate and unable to be controlled. People had minds. They had decisions to make. Molly liked people. She liked their minds. She liked having to win their trust sometimes. With wolves it was a matter of where people were born. What families they were born into. Because Molly had been born into a prominent family she _had _to be friends with Irene. With people there were no obligations. People chose freely who they wanted to be with, no biology or purpose. Molly would never force anything onto Sherlock Holmes. Despite how he made her feel with his scent and his intelligence, she could never bring herself to make him do anything he didn't wish.

Her mind was starting to change when she saw Irene looking at him that way.

"It appears," Sherlock started looking to Irene. "That Mr. Donahue has some interesting markings on him." Irene grinned like a delighted little princess. "Bite marks."

"Oh really." Sherlock was looking at the body as Irene spoke. The two women caught each other in a stare. Molly's was hard and unforgiving. The other woman had a delighted smirk. "How deliciously exciting."

"Animal bites." The brown eyed woman let out a breath at the incorrect deduction. "The couple had two small little white dogs."

"Bichon Frises." Molly and Irene said together. The smell was heavy on the body.

"These markings are from a much bigger creature." Sherlock decided still fiddling around with his inners.

"A big ugly dog I suppose." Irene moved her hips folding her arms as she hovered to watch Sherlock at work.

"No creature is too ugly." Molly put in letting her eyes see the markings she had made with her wolf fangs. Four bites from her canines were horribly indented in the unbloody flesh.

"Oh Molly," The dark haired woman laughed peering up from under her heavily massacred lashes. "You are such a kind little thing, but surely any creature that eats a human is quite ugly inside and out." She batted her lashes cocking a grin.

"Perhaps the creature was hungry. Dissatisfied with the hunt." Her eyes narrowed.

"Maybe the creature was lame. Couldn't hunt properly if its life depended on it." The mocking was starting to build into annoyance in Molly's chest.

"Should I leave?" Sherlock peered up looking between the two. "Are you having some sort of female spat?" Molly turned to Sherlock shaking her head.

"No, I just –"

"Tired are we Molly dear?" Irene wondered tiltly her head to the side. "Your night shift is slowly coming to a close is it not?" Molly peered at the clock. She hated to admit Irene was right.

"I apologize, Sherlock." She almost laughed at her own words. Apologizing to Sherlock Holmes was quite a funny way to end the night. "But Irene here was simply paying me a visit."

"Old childhood friends." The dark haired woman mused.

"Friends?" One eyebrow of Sherlock's roses though his curly brown hair hid that brow. Molly muffled a laugh.

"Enemies?" Irene looked to Molly letting her red lips turn up.

"Molly Hooper, enemies?" This time Sherlock was chuckling, baritone and beautiful. She saw Irene shutter at the nose. The low qualities in his voice could have made any wolf woman want to pounce. It was so soothing. "I thought I'd never see the day."

"I do have a life outside of this hospital." Molly stated.

"So you keep telling me." Sherlock mused. He went around the table to retrieve the file. "I will have to continue this case tomorrow." He approached Molly slowly looking under her eyes. "You seem in need of a good rest. And I wouldn't want you to miss the fun." With that Sherlock left, without even saying goodbye. He only nodded when Irene wished him well.

When the door closed Irene watched it moving forward slightly. Her index finger was stroking her jawline. Molly knew that look. Words didn't need to escape her lips for any wolf to know that Irene Adler was far too interested in Sherlock Holmes.

"He certainly smells divine." She mused guiding her index finger over her lips. "I think I'll have him."

"No you won't." Molly stated letting a low rumble admit from her throat.

"Oh," She turned to face Molly squarely. "Did you not smell him? You haven't declared him for yourself so I figured you weren't interested. But why wouldn't you be interested in such an interesting –"

"Everything in London is under my control Irene." She snarled. "I took it when you left, when I chased Jim north." It had taken her ages to fight off the criminal.

Sherlock had helped quite a bit with taking Jim Moriarty out, but he had merely solved puzzles. Molly had physically scarred him, giving him a warning not to enter her territory under penalty of death. Of course Sherlock had thought he had finally beaten him.

"Chase out two wolves and you think you're the bloody wolf queen of England." Irene ticked the tongue to the roof of her mouth. "You know I always get what I want, Molly."

"Not this Irene. Not him." She shook her head letting her ponytail swing back and forth. Irene approached her with such confidence and cunning it caused Molly to take a step back. The dark haired wolf's nose sniffed forward. Her teeth shone in that moment.

"Oh, dear, you like him." She wiggled her hips excitedly. "Little Molly Hooper is attracted to the cocky detective. I can smell the desire on you, Molls." Molly snapped at the woman when she was inches from her face. Irene leaned back laughing. She twirled a bit. "Oh you're so turned on by him it makes me want him even more. You can barely control yourself when you're around him. What must be like for you that time of the year?" She rubbed her thighs together. "Deep in heat and you got Sherlock sauntering around your lab like he owns it. Like he owns you." She seemed glad to say this.

"Nobody owns me." Molly insisted, though her throat squeaked with a lack of confidence.

"Oh of course not." Irene mocked. "It's very clear by your scent that you have never been owned." She was close to the door, close to leaving. Molly would have once been glad to see Irene leave, though she knew where the woman was going once she left the lab. To get Sherlock Holmes. "It's funny isn't it, Molly? How much he smells just like you." She cooed. "Two virgins stuck together not knowing what to do. I think I'll teach him a thing or two tonight." She smiled softly before disappearing out the door.

It took all of Molly's strength to cover Mr. Donahue.

Despite being a wolf and despite knowing she had to save Sherlock from the fate of ending up one of Irene's many playthings, she had to do her job.

She had to take care of the dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Thank yous and hugs to Prince-Slytherin, Shayran16, Brytte Mystere, DailyMirror, and the guests who have reviewed this story so far. This chapter has a lot going on in it from action to some fluff to some reveals. I'm glad everyone's enjoying it so far.

**Chapter Two**

Dear little Sherlock was so sweet sleeping in bed. Completely naked. Irene liked him even more seeing him bare. He looked so lovely glistening with sweat in the decaying night. She could just eat him up right then. He smelt heavily. He had on all the rich scents human males were wrapped in.

Sweat, salty, and serene tickled the tip of her nose and tongue as she lapped up the air. He wore too many clothes for the day. He liked being wrapped up in a nice package after a long hard day. He had showered recently so traces of heavy musk body wash were clinging to his bare chest. Then there was that fresh lingering heaviness of his cum in the air.

"Naughty boy." She whispered loving how good it smelt in her nostrils.

Despite being a virgin the curly haired impulsive man seemed to have given himself a good wank in the shower. She wondered if he did it often. Irene wondered if she had brought it on. She found disappointment when she sniffed around the room. The smell was not something new. He seemed to pleasure himself often while in the shower. It was one of the many smells that wolves could smell despite how much someone cleaned their towels.

She crossed the hardwood in Sherlock's bedroom. Her hair was wavy and long against her shoulders landing against her leather jacket that covered her white lacey night dress. Her feet were bare so that her footsteps could not be easily heard. She was glad to find him so easily. It was much easier to climb through the little detective's window with no heels, much easier to walk undetected in his room. He looked so innocent and sweet, eyes fluttering in REM sleep twisting only to breathe. She wanted to rip that innocence from him with her bare hands.

Irene mused over how she could take it right now, but he was too comfortable in his home. He wouldn't squirm like he would in a strange place. The woman had many strange places throughout London she could take him to. Irene didn't merely want to dominate him sexually, if she was going to dominate Sherlock she was going to dominate him completely. She would break him so fiercely that his body would quiver with fear whenever he heard her walk in the room.

She wanted that not only because he provided her with such a rarity of a virgin human male, but also because Molly Hooper seemed to care so deeply about him. It sickened Irene to see the wolf happily ruling over her former home with a human male taking control of her like she was his personal assistant. It brought shame to their kind, being controlled by such a pathetic little thing.

She moved closer taking him in. His soft curls were quite lovely in the shade of the moonlight. He was on his side mumbling something. His lips were pressed firmly against the pillow. Irene's tongue darted out of her mouth to lick the air. She could nearly taste the saliva that dribbled from his mouth. She'd feel much better taking that mouth fully onto hers. His mouth moved quite fast as he mumbled some syllables together.

"Dear Sherlock," She whispered so softly it hurt. Her fingers smoothed out his sweat ridden sheets. "Who do you dream of?"

"Molly." Was her answer. Her mouth turned down in a frown letting her teeth crunch together hard. Of course that pitiful excuse for a wolf held this pitiful human's heart, though that would make it more fun taking him from her knowing he cared for her without her ever fully realizing it.

"Oh sweetie." Her fingertips ghosted over his curls, wet and wild. "You're going to be such a delight to break." His neck was so bare it made her lips quiver and the saliva well up in her mouth. "Such a tender little lamb." She could see his purple veins in his neck squeeze painfully across his tense neck. Whatever dear Sherlock was dreaming he was struggling against it. "You even dream innocently."

Irene ran her fingers under his sheet peeling it down to see him move under her. He was bare chested with the lightest curls between his pecks. She licked her lips thinking of all the ways she could have him before she finally tired of him. Once that happened Irene was sure to either devour his flesh slowly, quickly, or not at all. She could kill him quickly or she could play with him. Or she could turn him, but judging by how wonderfully Molly smelt when he walked into the room and how cautiously he had said her name then, she was sure that was not an option which was unfortunate for him. He probably would have made a lovely little underling.

"Let's see. Where should I have you first?"

"You aren't going to have him at all." Irene was bent down ready to stroke his chest hairs with the tip of her nails when she heard the wicked whisper.

Molly had come through the same way Irene had, the open window. Her hair was down as well covering her small breasts. She was dressed in a beige fish net top with a black cami underneath. On her legs were gray sweat pants rolled up at her waist. Her toes wiggled on the ground as she gave Irene a not subtle glare.

"I was wondering when you would get here, Little Miss Hooper." Irene stood, her hand still on Sherlock's chest, possessively and unwilling to let go. "He's been such an angel while we waited for you." One finger swirled around the hairs. Molly's eyes widened. Irene's nails extended black and curved.

"Don't." She warned.

"Do you smell the air?" Irene fluttered her eyes wondering. She closed her eyes moving her head to relax in the scent. "That's the smell of the man you lust for. You should enjoy it now, Molly." She let her eyes fall to the tense woman. "It's going to be gone very soon." The brown eyed pathologist growled under her breath leaning into a crouch. Her nails extended black and curved with a yellowed edge to them. Irene grinned at the gold in the light. It was the sign of a wolf who had not yet mated, innocent, pure, golden.

"Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs.

"Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged.

Irene recoiled readying for the attack. She lifted her hand from Sherlock to cover her face. Molly grabbed Irene's shoulders allowing the woman to slam into the wall. She snapped at Irene wildly. The dark haired woman hadn't realized the fire Molly still possessed. She also hadn't remembered that the full moon was coming soon which meant that her power was increasing. During this particular full moon Molly would be at her strongest, she'd be in heat, which meant taking Sherlock away would be far more gratifying then she first realized as well as a much harder task.

Her knee snapped into Molly's gut letting the pathologist stumble backwards. Her nose sniffed the air. She looked hungry for the fight where Irene simply looked tired and underwhelmed. They breathed for a moment looking to each other. Irene snapped her teeth forward letting out a low tumbling growl. She lounged. Molly ducked.

"What is . . ." Sherlock's sleepy voice asked. Irene's head smashed into the wall. His eyes went wide when he saw Irene's head snap to look at him. She crawled toward his seated position on the bed. Molly grabbed Irene's ankle and smacked her against the wall. "Molly?"

"Sherlock, please." She was still careful and sweet in her whisper. She clambered to her feet. "She's going to –" Irene grabbed her shoulder blade then her wrist. She went to twist it backwards, but Molly twisted her around swinging her across the room. "Not safe, please."

The dark haired woman stood quickly taking a syringe from her black leather jacket. She stabbed Sherlock with something. He let out a soft cry. Molly's eyes widened as Irene seemed incredibly satisfied.

"Sherlock! What the hell is going on in there?!" It was John. Irene twisted her head uncertain.

"Another male?" Of course Irene hadn't smelt his odor as John's scent was not as overpowering as Sherlock's. It gave Molly enough time to grab a woozy Sherlock in her arms and jump out the window to take him somewhere safe.

It was dirty and it smelt like rat droppings, but it was the only place Molly knew was safe for Sherlock. Irene wasn't aware of his former drug addiction. Certainly she was unaware of her connection to the drug world now. The drug den was somewhere that would comfort Sherlock when he awoke, but would be a decent place for his hiding. She couldn't let Adler have him, not after what she had seen.

"Miss Hooper?" She was tucking Sherlock in on one of the cots when she heard the voice. Billy, a wolf left over by Moriarty's reign, came in with piles of blankets. She shivered when she saw them. She stood up, but also petting Sherlock's hair as she did. She still felt possessive in that moment.

"Billy, thank you," He spread them on the cot that laid next to Sherlock's. "You really didn't have to."

"It's my pleasure, mistress." Molly only smiled petting his long hair when he bent his head low for her. She put her nose to the young man's hair sniffing him in. He had been a good boy today, no drugs in his blood to keep him unfocused. She nuzzled him softly as a reward. She could smell the pleasure he received from the affection she gave him radiate off his body.

"You don't have to call me mistress or Miss Hooper Billy." She continued to pet him scratching the scruff of his neck softly. It was loose from all the bites and beatings Moriarty had put him under. He had been one of the few wolves who she had managed to save from the mess that Jim had left. "You can call me Molly."

"I can't." He shook his head unable to bring his head up to look at her. "You've been too kind to me. I don't deserve to say your name like you're my friend. You are more than that." She knelt to his level taking Billy's chin in her hand.

"We are friends, Billy." She smiled. He looked away from her. "Hey, Billy." She finally saw him look with boyish eyes that screamed innocence, large and broken. "A demon wolf may have turned you, but you're not him. You are good. I see that. That's why you aren't banished or torn to pieces sweetie." She scratched his head. He leaned into her palm lovingly closing his eyes. He kneaded his forehead into her palm greedily. She smiled and almost giggled at Billy's constant gratitude.

"You're too kind to me and I've done nothing for you." His tongue darted from his mouth to lick her wrist. Molly saw it as a submission. She placed her chin on Billy's head and kissed his hair, despite the greasy quality.

"You've brought me blankets." She massaged the back of his neck again. Billy yelped holding back the pain. Molly knew the pain would exist for much longer, but he was healing. He needed to feel the pain in order to heal. "And you'll keep Sherlock safe while I'm away." She fluttered her eyes slowly as she stood up. Billy remained low, but had the courage to look up at her.

"Is he," He peered at the sleeping man. "Your mate?"

"No," Molly said sadly peering over her shoulder at the sleeping young man. "And he'll never be." She sighed looking to the pile of blankets. Her eyes were sad and solemn. "Not after what I failed to prevent."

She closed her eyes remembering the scene after she had gotten Sherlock safe to her den, the blood that was spread across the floor. There were skin scraps and chunks of muscle. John was absent. She could hear sirens in the distance. A sobbing Mrs. Hudson was at the foot of the stairs. There was no body. No Irene Adler stalking, but her scent was everywhere. So was John's.

So was his blood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Thank yous and hugs to caesaraugusta, Brytte Mystere, 23, and all the guests who reviewed last chapter. I really appreciate all the kind words you guys have been dolling out for this story. Here's some Sherlolly interaction. Next time we'll get to see what some of the other characters are up to in this world.

** Chapter Three: **

His bed was usually warm and comforting. What Sherlock Holmes was laying on was a barely passable use of a bed. He shifted hearing the springs crunch and clench under him. The itchy worn out assortment of blankets clung to him sticky and unclean. He winced feeling his head start to throb when he moved. Something between a groan and painful breath escaped his mouth.

He noticed something shift across from him. His eye sight happened to be bleary in that moment however he could detect where he was. Drug den. He knew which one too. He had frequented places like this before he became clean. His knuckles rubbed into his temple as he watched the figure across from him stand up.

"Where?" The word was barely a mumble.

He made out the young man suddenly. Hooded sweatshirt. Long sleeves. Sloppily put together. Big eyes sunken. There was a junkie in a drug den staring at him. Sherlock studied him closer leaning forward though he felt gravity seem to catch up with him. He was tumbling from the bed, blankets falling after him.

"Careful Mr. Holmes." The young man had caught him. Sherlock felt himself being shifted back onto the bed very gently. He hadn't even noticed the junkie move. "Mistress would be very cross with me if anything were to happen to you." He tucked Sherlock back into the overload of blankets on him before going back to the cot.

"Mistress?" Sherlock mumbled nearly losing his breath.

He did feel rather awful. His mind began to work some when he tried to remember the occurrences that had unfolded before he had awoken with a junkie staring at him in a drug den that had never been one of his favorites. It was in a bad part of London. He remembered that. He also remembered how unclean and how poor the repetition of this particular place had been around town. Numerous people probably took their last breathes where he laid now.

Sherlock worked backwards remembering he had been sleeping before he had been – well – sleeping. In his own bed, at night after coming back from the mortuary to rehash some facts with Molly Hooper. He remembered her being rather short with him due to her guest, a woman who had been declared as unpleasant in the eyes of Molly Hooper. Someone being unpleasant in her eyes was something of a feat. He remembered going home. He remembered showering then sleeping.

He wrapped his brain around what could have happened next. He had been awoken by something. What had that been? It couldn't have been what he thought. It couldn't have been growling.

Sherlock heard muffled whispers. His eyes turned to look at the young man. The junkie's neck was craned in the direction of the voice. He had been back sitting on the cot across from Sherlock when his head turned. Suddenly he stood. His feet moved forward away from Sherlock. Another figure, petite entered the room. Molly wore an olive green corduroy jacket over a beige swooped top. She had on faded jeans. The young man approached her. Sherlock could see Molly's smile. Her hand went gently to that young man's head. He seemed to lean into the gesture.

"Thank you, Billy." Her fingers scratched at his scalp. "I'll take it from here." Sherlock blinked feeling his limbs wobble into a heaviness. Molly's footsteps seemed too loud.

"Sherlock?" She was at his bed side crouching at his level. Her hands were gently resting on the blankets that covered him.

"Molly?" He didn't know what had happened. He didn't know if the growling had been real. It seemed near impossible. He tried to call up another memory from that night, but it all was causing a pounding in his head. He pressed his palms to his forehead.

"Shh, it's okay." Her smile was so gentle. He couldn't comprehend what she had to do with all this. Had she been in his room that night? Sherlock knew Molly fancied him a bit, perhaps even a bit too much, but he never suspected her as one for stalking. No, it had to be something else. "You're safe."

"Safe?" He wondered looking her over. His eyes worked magic in his thoughts. He came up with several theories in his mind before she had time to respond. "Moriarty?" He could have been back. Sherlock had not heard from him in nearly a year, no games or horrible murders. Not since the pool. Not since Jim had gotten that phone call.

"No." Molly's lips trembled a bit at the word. She clutched the blankets around Sherlock, heavy over washed comforters. She picked at the fluffs on them absently. Her eyes then slowly lifted to stare him in the eyes. They were glazed over in worry and freshly building tears. "Sherlock," His name was squeaked out sweet on her lips. "What do you remember?"

"I," He tried to form words that would make sense to her. He wasn't even sure if he remembered properly or if somehow his dreams and nightmares were intermingling together. "I recall," He squeezed his eyes together. "What happened to me? Was I . . . I think I was drugged."

"You were." Molly stated. The back of her hand came to his forehead. Her hand was damp and supple. However she felt like ice against his burning forehead. "It'll pass soon. You've slept most of it off." She removed her hand slowly.

"Molly?" His eyes shut tightly. He rubbed the crease between his eyes. "Why was I drugged?" Slowly his eyes opened to gauge her reaction. He could tell very easily that she did not want to tell him though the words were at the tip of her tongue. She was eager to do it, but frightened what would happen afterwards. He smiled slightly. Molly Hooper was always very easy to read.

"Sherlock," Her lips trembled and curved in uncertainty. "Sherlock, please, you have to understand me when I say this," She leaned forward from her kneeled position. "I know this will sound completely strange, but I will be telling you the truth. It's important you know what's happening." Her head dipped slightly as she sniffled. "This is all my fault."

"Molly," He tried to sound sincere and not eager to know what exactly was happening around him. "Please, tell me." He saw her eyes. The eyes so full of emotion it made even the consulting detective feel a pang of guilt for asking such a question. Her lips moved ever so slightly before words came out of her mouth.

"That woman," She started. "That woman at the morgue was in your room. Do you remember her? Do you remember her standing so close to you, injecting you with the sedative?"

"I," He could call up her face easily now. She had been on the floor crouched like a beast. He remembered seeing an anger in her eyes. He remembered his own fear. It had felt strange in his chest. He had felt too much like a child in that moment. Trembling at seeing the intensity and need in her eyes. "I remember her face. Did she hurt you?"

He saw Molly's eyes widened slightly. Perhaps it was not a question he should have asked, but when he remembered her anger he had remembered how small and fragile Molly was. He had remembered her being in the room as well. She had grabbed the dark haired woman when she went at him.

"No." She shook her head batting her ponytail back and forth. "She hurt you. She would have hurt you more if I hadn't . . ." She paused sucking on her lip. "Sherlock you have to understand that there was no other way out of it. I had to take you." Her eyes were so sad. He couldn't understand why.

"How could she do those things?" He wondered trying to see if he could find something on her dress or appearance to tell him more. She had dull colors on. Molly Hooper was never one for wearing dull colors. Mourning, but there was no black. She couldn't look him in the eye. Something had happened. Something bad. "There was growling. Animalistic. Inhuman."

"I fought her Sherlock. I had to. To keep you safe. To keep her from you." She pressed her chin to his covered chest looking up from under her lashes. "She could do those things – we can do those things – because Irene and I aren't exactly human," Her fingers traced the flower patterns on the blankets. "We're wolves, Sherlock. Werewolves as your kind like to call us." She pressed her ear against his chest uncertain. He knew she could hear the pulsating of his heart quicken slightly.

"That's," Her eyes went to him as his brow folded together. "Impossible."

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." Molly smiled at the man using his own words. "You've said that to . . ." She paused for too long dipping her head slightly. "John so many times in the lab. I suppose it stuck with me."

"Werewolves don't exist, Molly." Sherlock seemed so sure.

"But I'm here in front of you." Molly reached out her hand to the consulting detective. He could see her nails extend, darken, and curve into claws. "See." He flinched. She pulled back putting the curved fingernails to her lips. She opened her mouth slowly as her fangs extended sharply. "See." She watched his eyes widened as they absorbed all the information. Slowly she let herself come back to a more human appearance.

"You can't be." He decided to start with. "You're Molly Hooper. You can barely speak to me without stuttering out a sentence. You wear cat sweaters. You - oh, wait –" He thought all of the oddities he had faced with her over the years, chunks of corpses missing, night shifts she preferred, absences from the lab around the full moon. "No, I suppose this makes perfect sense now." He still seemed confused, but he saw the pathologist manage a smile.

"I'm glad I told you." She pushed the blankets closer to his chest. "I'm sorry it had to be like this. For the wrong reasons." She chewed her lip for less than a second. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep you here until I know she won't come after you again." Sherlock could tell from Molly's expression that this woman that was after him wasn't going to be caught and taken away. He wondered what Molly would have to do to keep him safe.

"Why did she come after me?" His brow knitted together again. A wrong searing red crossed her cheeks. She dipped her head.

"Because of me Sherlock." She seemed so ashamed. "Because of how I am about you. How I smell. How I feel. Irene hates me. She hates that I'm not like her. She likes to take things that . . . aren't hers. She likes to claim them, to break them." Sherlock watched Molly. There was a strange sort of fear and worry in her eyes as those eyes, so human and innocent stretched to look across his covered body. She tightened her grip on the comforter.

"You have people then, or wolves?" Molly seemed to brighten a bit at his question. "Like that one who seemed so eager to greet you, Billy?"

"Yes, Billy's a dear, a good wolf. He's been keeping a close watch on you while I was gone." She smiled with a sort of motherly pride. "And yes I have both people and wolves. Human and wolf working to keep you safe. Irene won't have you. She can't." She appeared determined by these words.

Sherlock knew Molly Hooper. At least he thought he had. She protected those she cared for. She protected those who couldn't protect themselves. She worked on dead bodies after all. She made sure every life or death was sacred. Sherlock knew without a doubt in his mind that Molly cared for him. She was infatuated with him which helped him most days. It saved his life yesterday. This woman, this Irene, was someone who could tear him open by the way Molly spoke of her. Molly had saved him from a fate he couldn't possibly imagine. Well actually he could. Torture was a bit of a side hobby for him, noting all the injuries one could sustain during a torture ses-

"I know she'll be watching me." Molly interrupted his thoughts. "She knows I have you, but I've been trying to lead her down different paths. She's watching my flat, though I'm very glad that she has so few people in this town to aid her in her cause to capture Sherlock Holmes." She laughed a bit. It sounded too innocent for such a delicate situation. Molly must have seen his eyes widen. "Oh sorry, was that not right? You must be terrified and –"

"Molly?"

"Yes?"

He hesitated. He was remembering. Sherlock was getting a clear mind.

"John," Molly stiffened at the name. It wasn't good. Sherlock knew it wasn't going to be good. "Where's John?" She couldn't look him in the eye. He sat up suddenly, the blankets fell from him. Molly scooted back sitting herself on the dirty floor. "What happened to John?"

"Sherlock," No. He hated the way her voice sounded. Pleading. It wasn't the Molly of this moment. It was shameful. It was pitiful. It was apologetic. It shouldn't have been. Not if John Watson was safe. "I'm sorry." His eyes grew wide. He grabbed the blanket looking at her. A wetness gathered under her eyes.

"Hey!" It was the voice of that other wolf, Billy. He stamped in the room looking down to Molly. He fell to her level instantly. "Mistress, are you -?" He couldn't finish his sentence. His nose poked at Molly's cheek. Sherlock could tell he felt the wetness on her cheek. His head snapped up. Teeth, long and sharp, extended over his lower lip. He snarled a growl from up his chest. "What did you do to her?"

"He didn't do anything Billy." She sniffled. The first sound she made caused Billy's face to look at her. Immediately his features calmed. She put her palm slowly to his nose then extended her hand to his forehead. He whimpered a bit pushing into her. "There we are." She stroked his cheek. His eyes closed. "Sherlock hasn't done anything." She convinced him, a sadness still in her eyes as she looked at Billy. She slowly moved those eyes to the consulting detective. "It's what I failed to do."


	4. Chapter 4

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Thank yous and hugs to all the guests and Brytte Mystere who reviewed. This chapter has some introductions of some really fun characters as well as another scene of aggressive assertive alpha (alliteration) Molly, who I love more then anything else. Next chapter be prepared for Sherlolly moments.

**Chapter Four:**

Mrs. Hudson was sobbing uncontrollably downstairs.

Lestrade could see why. The place was a bloody mess and he meant a literal bloody mess. 221B Baker Street where the consulting detective and his "live-in" John Watson shared together had been a drug bust location and destroyed by a bomb, but the detective inspector had never wanted this. He never wanted to see bits of tissue mixed with blood from the entrance of Sherlock's bedroom smeared down the hall before ending in a big soaking bloody sponge on the carpeting.

"My God." He had to say it. There was so much blood. Anderson was moving about the room. His knees were trembling. In all Lestrade's years he had never seen something so brutally gruesome.

"Anderson," He was squatted at the ground staring at the odd shaped blood stain. Anderson's eyes were cradling the beginnings of tears. "What, my God, Sherlock," He shook his head trying to calm his demeanor. "What is it that we have here?"

"By the looks of it," Anderson started up. The entire police force seemed to have squeezed into the tiny apartment. The man closed his eyes and cleared a cough from his throat. "I'd say he was dragged," His gloved finger pointed to the hall then to the carpet. "To here. It looks," He swallowed looking at Lestrade. "Looks like he was still –"

"Yes I can see it." Lestrade said unable to help himself. The bloody hand print was on the hardwood, smeared.

"Well nothing appears to be taken." Lieutenant Donavon said coming from Sherlock's bedroom. She was surprisingly calm, though Lestrade knew from experience that she handled most cases like this. He guessed it didn't matter to her that Sherlock Holmes and John Watson could be dead. Probably were dead judging by the blood.

"So this was just," Lestrade seemed quite confused. He stared at the blood. "My God, who does something like this?"

"My thoughts precisely, Detective Inspector." Eyes turned to see Mycroft Holmes entering the apartment. Lieutenant started forward in an effort to escort Mycroft out, but Lestrade held his hand.

"Hang on." He stated. The officer headed for Mycroft who appeared to have a stiff appearance despite the copious amounts of blood that may or may not be his brother's. "I'll talk to him." He motioned Mycroft into the hallway to the top of the stairs. The two men faced each other. "How in the hell did you hear about this?" Greg's hands were at his hips. His expression screamed frustration. "We've only been here for thirty minutes."

"It's not important." Mycroft wiped his hand across the air shooing the idea away. "Now is that blood my brother's or Doctor Watson's?" Lestrade stared out. "Oh come now you think I wouldn't come here just to watch you at work. If my brother is dead Detective Inspector I deserve to know."

"Sherlock's dead?" Mrs. Hudson squeaked out in a sob at the bottom of the steps. Lestrade looked wide eyed at Mycroft then down at Mrs. Hudson.

"Mrs. Hudson please go back to inside! We're still analyzing the crime scene." Mrs. Hudson soon disappeared sobbing again at Lestrade's demand. He turned back to the elder Holmes. "We don't know at this time. We only just arrived like I said."

"What did the land lady say? Surely she heard something."

"There was a commotion." Lestrade knew Mrs. Hudson was trying to be subtle in her wording though he also thought she was a bit in shock as well. "She heard some bangings, but she didn't think anything of it. Then she heard screaming. She thought it was John." He swallowed at how easily the man's first name had come from his mouth. "She dialed the police, but the screaming died when she did. She waited until there was silence for a long while before she went up." He sighed. "She found it like we did. She's been in her room ever since. Sobbing. Can't say I blame her." There was skin under the bristles in the carpet, long pieces of flesh. They'd be able to check whose it was at the lab.

"_Both_ of them are gone?"

"Yes, no sign of Sherlock or John." He hated that he was friends with these men. "We're looking into who could have done this."

"And what exactly is this, Detective Inspector?" Mycroft raised a brow. "A home invasion? A kidnapping? A murder?"

"At this time," Lestrade peered back into the apartment. Anderson was flashing a camera at the carpet. The smell was so wickedly iron and rotted in the air. He could see Anderson's cheeks puff out. "The hell that I know."

* * *

Molly absolutely detested keeping secrets. She was bad at it. The worst. However today she was going into work as planned. She was going to prepare herself for the worse. After all her colleagues were all up in arms about Sherlock Holmes' bloody disappearance.

"The test results came back a while ago. Didn't you hear?" She had heard in the hall from one of the other hospital workers. "It was Doctor Watson's blood."

"Really? My God! What did he ever do to anyone? I mean Sherlock I can understand, but John ? He was always so nice." It was a valid question.

"Do you think it's that nutcase? The one who had the city under lockdown a while ago? Moriarty was it?" Molly shook off the sounds before getting to work.

She started her day by giving an autopsy on some car crash victims. All the while she had to try to figure out how to mask her scent so Irene couldn't follow her. She didn't want to lead the woman anywhere near Sherlock. She couldn't go back to her flat. She had tried to go back there and smelt some human thugs that held the lingering scent of the powerful female alpha on them.

Despite not having many people on her side Irene Adler had some clients in London she could manipulate. Molly had put in a word to her mother to try and get a hold of Irene's father, but he was on important business elsewhere. The pathologist had to handle her Adler problems on her own as usual. She was almost done for the day when she sighed looking into the split open young boy, curly haired like Sherlock. Her shoulders started she shake when she thought of all the ways Irene would torture him if she ever –

"Go home, Molly." She turned her head to see Mike Stamford, her superior most of the time.

"No, I'm," She took in a breath. "I'm fine. I can –"

"Molly, no." He took the tools from her hand. "I'm sorry, but I need you to go home." She saw his face. She smelt the uneasy grief on him. She wondered if he had been the one to identify the blood in 221B Baker Street as his friend's. "This environment isn't good for you."

"But what about you?" She wondered. His eyes widened as he looked to the boy on the slab.

"I'm older. I can push down my grief." He smiled very serene at her. It was an attempt at comfort. It wasn't something Molly needed, but she regarded him with appreciation.

"But it's not grief."

"Molly." He warned tilting his head.

"No it's not." Her mind was working fast in that moment.

"There was a lot of blood."

"Yes I know, but it doesn't mean he's dead." No it didn't, but Molly certainly had hoped Irene had simply killed John Watson. She hated to think of the tortures the wolf woman would use on him. She could be too creative, too cruel. "No one's found a body. No one's found a body of either of them."

"And what if they do?" Mike swallowed slowly looking at her. "If they end up on your table? Your list? Will you be able to deal with that Miss Hooper?"

She really hadn't thought of that before. She swallowed trying not to picture them there on the slab where the boy was, but it was strangely easy in that moment. The person on the table now already looked too much like the consulting detective she had kidnapped for his own good.

"Go home." He had his hands on her shoulders. "Have some tea. Relax. And don't come in tomorrow either." She watched him carefully. She could see his stance change suddenly. The purpose of the conversation became something more than grief. It became a deep concern for her well-being. "Your birthday's coming up right?" she nodded slowly. "You need to get into a celebratory mode. Alright?"

"Yes." She squeaked out.

Mike wished her well before she left back into the streets in the clothes she had visited Sherlock in that morning. She blinked knowing home was not where she needed to go. Tea sounded nice, but it would have to be elsewhere. In someone else's home. On someone else's sofa. She sniffed the air for signs of Irene. Molly had her people out stalking places Irene had frequented during her reign however most of the places were destroyed now. Mostly because the dark haired wolf woman destroyed everything she loved.

She walked the streets trying to recall her enemy's fighting style. She was cunning and crafty. She'd probably prolong the attack. She'd make Molly squirm and suffer waiting for her, making the pathologist jump at every noise, think she was around every corner, and just when Molly would forget she was in danger that's when Irene would come. She'd scoop up Sherlock Holmes, fuck him, torture him, tear him to pieces, and then kill him. Perhaps in that order, but Irene was always unpredictable when it came to what she called "fun".

Molly looked down at her clothing as she wandered the streets. Dull colors. She wondered if Sherlock noticed. Usually she was all about pinks and other bright colors. It made her stand out. However now was not a time to stand out. Wolves were attracted to bright colors especially at night. Earth tones didn't immediately catch a wolf's eye so Molly had decided to air on the side of caution.

She was very close to one of her wolves' places of business. She could smell Sarah's mix of coco butter and overwhelming curiosity mingling in the air outside the clinic. The fresh scent of salty tears had been spattered just on the sidewalk. Despite having broken things off with John Watson, Molly was very certain she had heard of the disappearance. Word around the city had to have spread to her ears by now.

She entered the clinic very slowly trying to find herself airing on the cautious side. Her eyes filtered around feeling the air tingle with stray emotions and scents. She liked the human emotions and scents at times. Her eyes met with a receptionist that was in that waiting area. It was nearing the end of the day. There were only a few patients left.

"Is Doctor Sawyer in?" She asked the older woman behind the desk. Molly blinked her lashes quickly seeing the woman look up from under her chained glasses. She reached for the phone. "Tell her it's Molly Hooper." She took the corded phone and buzzed it.

"Sarah. There's a Molly Hooper here to . . ." She paused waiting then nodded. She hung up the phone. "Go on in, but I have to warn you," She leaned forward to whisper loudly. "She's in a bit of a state." Molly could smell the said state in the air.

She moved toward the door that was Sarah's room where she saw patients. Molly was cautious entering the room. She heard the sobbing seeing a pile of tissues lying on the counter next to the jar of tongue depressors. Molly slowly closed the door. The woman's dirty blonde hair was pulled back out of her eyes a stray piece hung down over her open white collared top. She dabbed her eyes.

"Oh Molly." Her lips quivered. "It's terrible. John . . . you must have heard . . . his blood." She buried her head in hands crying.

"Why'd you come to work?" Molly asked concerned. "You can't be in this state and seeing –"

"I only just found out!" She said through tears. "They found all that blood . . . and all of it . . . all of it was John's."

"Yes I know." Molly moved toward the crying woman. "Sarah, it's going to be alright."

"Alright?!" Her anger came to a head as she snapped her hands down from her face. "John's probably dead! Things can't be alright."

"Sarah, please." Molly held out her hand. "Retract." The woman looked down at her fingers seeing the curved sharp black nails extending. She took a breath.

"Yes, okay, sorry." Her nails retreated. She then looked up from under her lashes at Molly. "Who do you think could have done this?"

"Actually," This had to be done right. If she said the wrong word Sarah, a new wolf with too much unbound pent up energy, could go off the deep end. If she attacked Molly in any sort of physical way Molly was obligated to kill her. She was a lower wolf. She wasn't an alpha female like Irene. Sarah was barely an Omega. "I know."

"You, do?"

"Yes, I was there." She gauged the reaction. The blonde woman only leaned forward. "Irene Adler walked into my morgue looking for a fight. She found something she wanted in Sherlock. She could smell," She wrinkled her nose at the last word with unsubtle disgust. "How much I desired him. She wanted to take him away. Break him slowly and miserably." Molly shook her head. "I couldn't let that happen. She tried to take Sherlock from Baker Street. I stopped her." She watched. Sarah waited for more before swallowing. Her brow creased as she looked down for a moment then back up. She let out a puff of air.

"You took him?" She asked harshly. "You took Sherlock, but left John."

"Sarah it happened so fast there was no time to –"

"You left John with that monster!" She advanced forward. Molly was terrified showing off wide eyes, not for herself, but of what she might have to do. Sarah's stance screamed aggressive. Her shoulders were squared with Molly's. "You're no better than her!" She saw the sudden hesitation in Sarah's step and took it. She reached for the woman's shoulder.

"Sarah, please," She begged. Molly looked toward the roller chair fairly close to the counter. "You need to calm down."

"He's dead because of you." Her eyes were harsh, but Molly managed to slowly back away.

"He might not be." She assured the woman, though the assurance was not something she hoped for.

She remembered once Irene bragging about how she had once skinned one of her human lover's arms in its entirety and left him alive while she continuously beat him. She had simply done it just to see how badly he could scream. She had hoped if Irene was still that bored that John had simply bled out and been eaten. Death sometimes was better than a host of things.

"There was all that blood."

"It was fresh blood." Molly told Sarah who backed herself into the chair. "He didn't die there. I would have smelt it." Sarah looked up at Molly almost confused. "I went back once I got Sherlock to safety. I'm not cold like the others Sarah. I wish you would learn that."

Sarah had been turned during her first date with John Watson. She had been bitten by the lead member of the Black Lotus gang, a Chinese gang of werewolves come to see how truly ruthless Moriarty could be and to do business. Sarah had not fought the change when it came over her otherwise she would have been dead. Once Moriarty discovered what she was he used her up. She broke things off with John to save him from dealing with the consequences of being the lap dog of a powerful wolf like Jim Moriarty. Once Jim had gone, Sarah had struggled with other figure heads before Molly decided to end the mini reign of one of the homeless wolves in the city.

She took Sarah in because she was a doctor. She needed a doctor in her company, one she could trust to carry things out when she couldn't. However Sarah proved to be far too broken. Moriarty had threatened her badly. The homeless wolves had belittled and beaten her. She may have been a willing victim to succumb to the bite, but she seemed to have changed her mind at some point. She was fighting her nature once more, but Molly simply suspected it was because of how badly she had been treated by her former masters.

"Oh you're shaking." Molly moved to touch Sarah. The woman flinched leaning away. "Please, Sarah," She held out her palm. "Let me do this."

Sarah leaned a bit forward carefully toward Molly's open hand, but her head bowed. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. Molly slowly placed her hand on Sarah's forehead. She pressed into her flesh gently. Sarah whimpered.

"Just relax, lean in." Sarah did as she was told. Molly could feel her skin become less tense. She could feel the heaviness from her shoulders disappear. "That's better." Sarah pushed her body forward. Her forehead leaned into Molly's hand. Her nose nudged the woman's wrist. "Good girl." Her fingers scratched the woman's hair line. Sarah looked up from under her lashes. Molly slowly moved her hand to Sarah's cheek.

"What - ?" Her eyes looked around as her lips dropped slightly. "What is this?" Molly slid her hand down to knead her knuckles under Sarah's chin. The new wolf sighed heftily.

"Pheromones." She told the doctor. "Alphas can release them to an individual wolf through touch. When a pack is gathered together they can be released to the group in the air." Sarah's closed her eyes sticking her nose out and flaring her nostrils. "You feel calmer don't you? More at ease?"

"It feels," Sarah swallowed opening her eyes slowly. "Good." Molly smiled glad to see the woman at ease. It would make all the things she said next easier.

"I'm sorry about John. I really am." Sarah slowly nodded as Molly spoke. "But I need to continue to keep Adler's hands from Sherlock. I failed John I can't fail his friend." She hated the fact that Irene had got something. She had torn into her life like she had wanted to though she didn't have the consulting detective and if Molly had her way she'd never get her hands on him.

"Yes." Sarah still seemed mellowed out by Molly's touch. The alpha female wiped her thumb over Sarah's lower lip. The wolf kissed it without a thought, her tongue darted out.

"I'm going to be staying at your place." Molly slowly lifted her hand from Sarah's face. The wolf whimpered creasing her brows at the absence of affection. Slowly her face returned to an expression of confusion and sudden anger.

"You're going to?" She asked harshly.

"I can't stay at my place."

"You're ordering me?" Sarah asked. Her eyes lingered a bit with sadness, but everything still remained confused.

"Not ordering. More like telling you." She watched Sarah slowly. She then decided that all the affection had been something Sarah hadn't readily responded to so easily. She still needed a firm hand to knock her into place. "This is because I am the alpha female. You give me what I need." Her vocal tones seemed to cause a reaction in Sarah. "Am I clear?"

"Yes, Molly."

"Not Molly," She shook her head tucking her fingers to scratch under Sarah's chin. The wolf became intoxicated by the touch. "You can call me, Mistress." Sarah had yet to earn her keep.

Molly hoped she'd be proving herself very soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Thank yous and hugs to Fangirlingforlife and Brytte Mystere who reviewed last chapter. Alpha Molly is a certain way for very certain reasons that will be revealed in time though the pieces start to fall together in this chapter which holds a Sherlolly conversation and some more Billy!

** Chapter Five**

The iron plate clattered to the end table beside the cot.

Sherlock looked at the dish in his hooded sweat shirt and sweat pants, all courtesy of Billy the junkie wolf. The curved bone stuck out at him. The meat was browned with bits of char on it to prove the meat was well prepared. Slivers of seasonings were scattered throughout. He pinched his temple looking at the food. He couldn't remember the last meal he had. The sedative had put him out for nearly a day after Molly had come to tell him everything. He was still finding it all hard to understand. He hadn't physically seen her since that moment.

"Here," He looked up to see Billy sticking a long finger nail to poke the dull silver dish. "It's rabbit."

"Did you catch it yourself?" He watched Billy's reaction.

He seemed stern. Clearly the young man wasn't amused. Sherlock took the plate to his lap either way. Food was food. He was starving. He took the meat by the bone and put it to his lips. He tore into it as best he could. It was surprisingly good.

"I used to be a cook." Billy stated. He took a relaxed position on the cot beside Sherlock. The consulting detective watched from under his lids as he chewed. He saw Billy's nose dip into the pillow. He slowly nuzzled it before shifting to put his hands behind his head. He peered at Sherlock who knew enough to push his head down as he ate. "It comes in handy from time to time."

"How long was Molly here for last night?" He could see Billy's reaction, surprise and a bit of jealousy. Sherlock only smiled. He chewed on a rough bite swallowing it before telling Billy how he knew. "You're quite fond of her scent. I suspect the travel from all her locations makes her a bit drowsy. No doubt she has to make use of the bedding here when she checks up on me." Billy's nostrils flared.

"You're very lucky she cares for you so much, Mr. Holmes." He looked to Sherlock as he continued to eat. "Irene would have you torn across town if you didn't have an alpha taking you in."

"From what I understand it's because Molly feels for me that I'm here in the first place." Sherlock chewed a bit before hearing the low building growl exit from Billy's throat. He sat up turning toward the human male.

"Don't you dare talk about Miss Hooper that way!" His teeth crunched together. "Adler would have had you anyway. You're everything she loves and hates in this world. She'd do to you just what she did to Jim." Sherlock was wiping his hand of grease on his pants when he heard the name.

"Jim?" His eyebrow rose. Billy smiled leaning forward hands folded on his knees.

"Oh didn't you know?" Billy nearly laughed. His eyes were looking at Sherlock's eyes, wide and alert. "You're precious Moriarty was one of Irene's playthings. She turned him just to see what would happen." Sherlock stared wide eyed.

He knew how dangerous Moriarty was. He had played games with him taking people's lives in his hands just for sport. If Irene Adler had held herself above a man – wolf – like Moriarty that meant she liked what she saw in him, his cruelty, his games. She wanted them. She wanted them at a grander level. He was just a pawn to her. He had been such an enemy to Sherlock. If Jim was the pawn in this web what did that make Irene then?

"She ruled didn't she?" Sherlock asked. "Before all this."

"Yes. Molly's father had reign over London until his death." Billy started. "Once that happened there was a power void. Adler stepped in. She nearly destroyed London. Then she went and made Moriarty. She was near unstoppable, but she left it all for Jim. She ran out of things to destroy, I suspect, so she let Jim have his fun. He did. Toyed with you a bit, then mistress chased him out."

"Molly?" He remembered the last time he had seen Moriarty, the pool, when he had strapped a bomb to John's chest and threatened him. That had been almost a year ago.

"Yes," Billy laughed at Sherlock. "Did you seriously think you had beaten him at his game?" He shook his head looking to the floor. "No, Miss Hooper tricked him into coming to her. She nearly castrated the poor bastard, but ended up chasing him north. She felt a bit sorry for him. Irene being the woman she is treating him so poorly and simply abandoning him."

He couldn't believe it. Molly had been the one to get rid of Moriarty. Had Billy just said she had nearly _castrated_ him? He couldn't imagine his Molly being so cruel? He shook his head wondering why she suddenly belonged to him.

"And where do you come into play Billy Boy?" Sherlock placed his meal aside on the end table.

"You think you can talk to me like I'm some animal? Some filth?" Billy got to his feet. Sherlock couldn't comprehend the speed at which the young wolf was on him, hands inches from his throat. He seemed to stop himself though his expression was still angry. "I could snap your neck four times in seconds. You wouldn't even realize it was coming." He put his hands to his sides. He sighed loudly taking a large step backwards. His head was down hung in shame. "Moriarty had changed me as part of his men. The things I did, Mr. Holmes," He slowly looked up. "You wouldn't be sitting there so comfortably if you knew what James Moriarty had me do for him." The tone even made Sherlock quake.

"Yet you're still here." Billy suddenly nodded excitedly.

"It's because of Miss Hooper." He could see a warmth run through Billy's body when he said her name. "She said she saw something in me. Saw I was good. That I was useful. I owe my life to her." Sherlock could tell that he did in fact owe Molly that. "She killed almost all of Jim's men. Ninety-nine percent. Just me and one other man were spared. I don't know why she saved me, but I do not intend to make her think she made the wrong decision." He sighed shaking his head. "Which is why I'm stuck here babysitting you Mr. Holmes."

Billy looked the man into his blue eyes with contempt. Sherlock was sure Billy was jealous of Molly's affection over him. It was clear Billy cared very deeply for Molly, but he was uncertain if it was an oath he swore to himself or if it was in fact – dare he think it – puppy love. The young man shifted, alert, when he heard a noise. He hurried quickly to the entry way. Molly appeared in a high collared dark brown button up top. It almost seemed like Billy would fall at her feet.

"What have you been telling him sweetie?" Molly reached out her hand. It was so strange to see the junkie instantly become calm the moment he rubbed his forehead against her palm. He moved his forehead from side to side against her. Molly scratched his hairs. "All good things I hope." Her nostrils flared as she peered over to Sherlock. She smiled so sweetly it almost made him forget what she was. "And you've made him some rabbit."

"Caught it all by myself." Billy stated proudly in an almost drug induced stupor.

"That's a good boy." She beamed excitedly. Billy leaned forward to sniff her wrist.

Molly took her hand from Billy's face causing a deep whimper to escape his throat and his lower lip to quiver. Sherlock found this all fascinating the way these two interacted. It was clear Billy was getting enjoyment and comfort from Molly's touch. She then leaned forward with her nose and cheek.

Billy seemed a bit put off by it until Molly made contact with the spot below his jawline on the left side of his neck. She nuzzled him with her nose then with her cheek. Sherlock could nearly hear the excited noise escape from the young man's lips. He saw Molly's soft pink tongue flutter out quickly to lick the spot she had nuzzled. She tugged at the back of his neck causing another less joyful noise to escape from his mouth.

"Why don't you get me some of that rabbit?" She mused sniffing his cheek before looking him in the eyes. "It smells divine." Billy nodded though took longer than needed to let himself out of Molly's grasp.

He exited the room leaving her and Sherlock alone. She turned to walk toward him sitting herself on the cot Billy had just been on.

"He seems to be quite infatuated with you."

"He just thinks he owes me." Molly stated. "If it was infatuation I could smell it." She rubbed the sheets around her. "He has an addictive personality. I'm his new drug."

"He craves your presence."

"It is very intoxicating to him." She showed off her palm. "All those touches, nuzzlings, and kisses aren't just for show. It releases pheromones. Only alpha wolves can do it though."

"But he was taking heroin when he was still a part of Moriarty's group."

"Oh I see Billy has been talking to you." She smiled leaning forward to look to Sherlock happily. "Moriarty wasn't exactly a comforting presence to be around. You know that more than anyone Sherlock." The consulting detective seemed to look down. "I don't like to treat those around me with cruelty. It doesn't get anyone anywhere. I'd rather be kind and generous. I'd rather have worship then fear. You die for a queen you love, not a queen you hate."

Billy walked into the room at that moment with a plate similar to Sherlock's.

"Oh no, Billy." She seemed disappointed. "These are the good parts. I don't want to steal your kill from you." Billy pressed the plate onto Molly's lap.

"No, it's for you and . . ." He peered over his shoulder at Sherlock Holmes giving him a very off putting look. "Your Mr. Holmes." He bowed his head deeply. "I want you to be satisfied."

"You don't disappoint me silly Billy." She laughed at her rhyme. Her lips kissed his forehead. She grabbed the bone of the rabbit's leg. She held it up to him. "But I do think you should take a bite of it."

"Mistress, I –"

"It would satisfy me." Sherlock watched as Billy took a deep hesitant bite at Molly's request. He chewed long and hard. It never ceased to amaze him how increasingly forgiving and loving Molly Hooper could be. "See, there we are." She rubbed her thumb against his cheek as he chewed. "Good boy. Now go on and take to the perimeter with the others." Billy stood glaring at Sherlock one more time before he left.

"I think your sense of smell is a bit off, Molly." Sherlock laughed a bit to himself as he grabbed his own rabbit's leg. "He's jealous of me."

"You did came in here and occupy his territory. Take hold of his drug." She tore into the flesh of the leg before letting her teeth dig in for the meat.

"Right yes." He shook his head looking to see his half eaten leg. "Is," He paused very slowly trying to think of the next words. "It true that she turned Moriarty?"

"Unfortunately yes." Molly chewed lightly pressing her nose into the meat. "Irene took an interest in his self-proclaimed occupation."

"Consulting criminal."

"Yes," Her eyes fluttered up as she took another bite. She then placed her dish and meat down swallowing slowly before continuing the story. "She thought it'd be interesting to see what would happen if a bad man held a certain kind of power – well – more power. Power over two worlds. Human and wolf."

"But she left him." Sherlock had paused in his eating to understand just exactly what he was dealing with.

"Yes." Molly nibbled on her lip letting her eyes fall away from him.

He could see a flush coloring cross her cheeks with either embarrassment or arousal. With Molly Hooper it was hard to tell. He looked down at his body realizing he was leaning forward more then he probably needed to. It was also quite clearly that his legs were spread wider then needed as well. He readjusted his posture and position which allowed the pathologist to look toward him with comfort.

"You aren't the only one who gets bored." Her eyes were so big and brown in that moment. How could she be this being that people worshipped? How could she _run_ a city? How could Molly Hooper with her big brown eyes and sweet demeanor keep London's wolves under control? He couldn't understand it. He had remembered saying that once about Moriarty.

"Her father was about to send her away. To Bulgaria where they have a summer home. Bulgaria isn't as fun as London. Less scandals and tortures, so she set up a way that she could have a part in the torment without actually being there."

"You stopped him."

"Yes." She swallowed. Her face grew rosy in her cheeks. A sheepish grin crossed her as she threw her eyes to the ground. "I did."

"Billy said –"

"Yes, I know. It's true." She wiped her hand across the air choosing still not to look at the consulting detective. She snatched the bon and meat. Molly tore into it taking a bite too big for her mouth. "Let's move on from it." She said mouth full.

"Forgive me Molly," He felt uncertain why those words were escaping his mouth, but was reminded when her eyes peered at him with a soft innocence. Perhaps that's how she reigned her wolves in, with those seemly innocent eyes, but he was most certain it probably had something to do with the pleasant state the pheromones gave off. "I'm only trying to understand this . . . pecking order . . ."

"No, please, forgive me, Sherlock." She tipped her head down after she had swallowed. "I'm not giving you answers." She looked up to him once more. "Not the proper ones. I should give you everything at once." She licked her lips before starting. "My family has run London for generations. My father was the alpha before he passed on. Irene's father was his beta, but her mother was an alpha giving her alpha status. We grew up together – well – we were forced to due to our fathers being who they were, but I always found Irene a bit off putting." He watched her pause for a long while before continuing.

"When my father died," A chunk of the explanation seemed to be missing however Sherlock decided not to point out her hesitation. From his own experience he decided that it was quite possible that it may be rude to point it out. "My mother would have been next in line, however," She tilted her head sideways. "She had gotten into an accident and was paralyzed, confined to a wheelchair." She shook her head. "It is in our nature to abandon injured wolves. Our bodies shy from them, so it was something that could not be done."

"Why didn't you take London, Molly?" Sherlock shifted his body again trying to find a comfortable space for him. He moved his half chewed rabbit leg to the end table. "Why leave it for the woman you hated to ruin it?" She looked up from under her lashes ashamed. He could see that twinkle in her eyes, the crooked way her cheeks went.

"My father didn't want the life of an alpha for me." Her shoulders dropped. "He said I was too sweet for it, that'd it . . ." She shook her head dipping her voice into a whisper before speaking again. "It'd ruin me." Mr. Hooper had been right. Sweet lovely Molly didn't need that in her life. "But you have to understand Sherlock," She held her hands up pleading. "I wanted to respect my father, but I couldn't," She shook her head again. "I couldn't let someone like Jim Moriarty end all those lives. Irene just toyed in scandals. Moriarty played bigger games."

"I'm sure he'd be proud of you Molly." Sherlock started to stand up on instinct.

Her eyes widened at the sudden movement. He knew that despite what she was Molly needed some comfort. Talking about the past and dead parents called for it. He sat slowly beside her. He put his arm around her slowly. He watched her slowly sniff his shoulder with her small nose before nuzzling him softly. She sniffled. He didn't know why that made him smile.

"Thank you." She whispered.

He held her tight to him wanting to give her the comfort she needed. She deserved it. She was saving him after all.

**A/N:** Next chapter will probably start off with a flashback to how exactly Molly got Moriarty running tail between his leg (pun intended?) which will then lead into a situation happening to Molly in present day. That's what you guys have to look forward to :) Until next time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Thank yous and hugs to Fangirlingforlife and Shayran16 who reviewed last chapter.

Okay so this chapter really got away from me and it's long (sorry for those expecting another quick). Seriously took several directions I didn't think I was heading, but I absolutely love what happened. Now this chapter is rated M, well the whole story is, but seriously lots of sexiness in this chapter. Like I promised it starts off with a flashback then a bit into present day, but we see wolfMoriarty and get some answers to some questions and more questions come up.

**Chapter Six: **

The morgue wasn't hot.

No it wasn't hot.

She had to keep reminding herself that. It was the middle of spring quite a decent temperature outside. Molly pressed her hand to the back of her neck letting out an exhale. Hot, it was still hot – or – she was still hot, burning, actually, on fire. Her office was the same temperature as the rest of the building, not far from the lab or where the bodies were kept. She would have to make her way there soon, not because she needed to inspect a body because – well – she was hot. The morgue would be cooler then here, her office where her bloody computer was glitching like crazy.

She moved her hand from her neck to her forehead feeling her sweat sticky against her fingers. She let out a soft whimper. She looked around realizing her door was wide open. She contemplated closing it, but when she started to move she was reminded of why she was so hot. It was painful to move her joints in any way other then what she craving. Molly resumed her position of staring at the blue screen of death on her desktop, palms sticking to the wooden desk.

She slowly shifted her palms to the corner of the desk pulling herself along. She turned once more to the door to check if anyone was coming. She positioned herself on the corner of the desk lifting herself so that her crouch could rub against it. The heat flared into her cheeks as she pressed herself against it. It relived a great deal amount of pressure calming her to a soft exhale of a sigh. Molly then readjusted her position looking to the failing computer once more.

"Happy birthday to me." She mumbled with exasperation.

She knew her heat was coming. Molly always prepared herself for the unpleasant feeling of needing the touch of another being, of being overly sexually needy, and incredibly irritable and aggressive. Usually she made up some excuses as to why she shouldn't go into work during the week she fell into a deep painful that sparked every nerve on her body. She'd usually use her mother's condition as an excuse or her own sickness or family affairs. However Mike had been in dire straits with employees at the moment.

Meena was at a wedding and several of her other co-workers were in dispose as well. Mike had nearly begged her to come in. She regretted the decision at the moment. Her birthday was only two days away, but the full moon was tonight. All wolves were born under a full moon though with the shifting days her actual day of birth rarely fell on the day of the full moon. Next year it would, which would be certainly interesting. Her physical strength was strongest during the moon while her sexual peak was highest around the day of her birth.

Coming in already in pain was certainly bothering her. Usually during these times Molly would find a way to her mother's house in the countryside where she'd shed her human appearance becoming in all physical sense a wolf. As a wolf Molly always thought she was more attractive. She was a variety of brown shades with yellowed eyes that were strong and fierce, being in this state allowed the heat to become manageable. On the grounds she would hunt which would settle her aggressive nature which in turn would lull her sexual need until her heat ended.

Molly would be heading off to her mother's as soon as she was through here however she knew she had to return in the morning as Mike required Molly's assistance for what he promised was "one more day" then he swore she had the rest of the week off. Molly sighed hoping he was right. She glared at the computer screen knowing that her luck was running thin.

She was at work in sexual need with Sherlock out in his lab dealing with the big bad Moriarty while she was in here unable to be in the same room as him otherwise she might hurt him. She always had to avoid her very obvious crush when it came this time of year. He smelt too good not to pounce. Molly was proud of her control during this time. She had spent years maintaining her virginity despite the many courters that crowded her. They were all tempting in this state. Any male wolf was and they all could smell her, they all needed her so badly.

She tried to focus on the screen and retrieving her files so that she could perhaps fling them at Mike to give to Sherlock and then run to her mother's and go caught herself a beautifully plump wild turkey. She wondered if her mother still kept those. She always felt bad for not seeing Ida Hooper as often as she should, but it was in her nature to shy away from crippled wolves. Every time she thought of going to her mother's when it didn't benefit her, her body would become sick. She'd talk to her mother more often on the phone who would assure her that not visiting was perfectly normal.

"But you're all alone there." Molly would say.

"Oh Molly, dear, please, I'm perfectly fine." Her mother would insist. "You're father left me some very nice human servants to occupy my time. They're all quite lovely and happy to be around me." Molly couldn't help, but apologize.

"I miss you." She really did.

"Yes, I know." Molly knew her mother missed her too, but she never said it. The young wolf suspected it was to keep her daughter's feelings in check. "But you can't help it. It's in our nature to abandon those who can't defend themselves."

Even when she would visit her mother during her birthday week she'd avoid her, though she would conquer that urge to run and spend short bursts of time with her. Molly hated feeling her mother's hand stroke her cheek saying how fast she'd grown and how much of a beautiful strong woman she had become. Her body hated the idea of the weaker wolf in her presence and her heart hated her for abandoning the mother who she had always relied on and adored.

The curling smell in her nose brought any notion of her mother from her body and mind. Instead her pulse quickened at the scent of another male, a male wolf. Her body grew hotter with the need though her mind cursed the scent. She didn't need this now. Sherlock was bad enough. Male wolves were extremely attracted to her during this time, being that she provided them with an equally irresistible smell and due to the fact that she was an alpha.

She heard his footsteps come closer. Her body tensed. She bit her lip holding back a whimper and closing her eyes. When she could nearly feel his body heat she realized who he was. His scent was all over Sherlock's case. It had been for months. She had been chasing him down alongside Sherlock and here he was coming to her willingly. She heard the door close.

"What do you need?" His soft voice asked in a bit of a tremble. She hadn't had time to turn 'round to see what he looked like.

His hands were covering hers as his body leaned up against her from behind. He pushed his crouch forward against her bum grinding a bit slowly against her. Molly nearly lost her breath. She hated to admit that him taking her right then and there would be a kind act to do. Her bum wriggled against him almost encouragingly. She closed her eyes and bit her lip cocking her head to the side.

"I.T.?" She asked in a hot breath.

"Jim." His breath was so hot and inviting against her neck. His fingers kneaded into her fingers. "At your service. What do you need?"

"Help." It was barely a word. She raised her bum leaning her chest downward causing his body to move with her. "Please." She didn't know what she was asking for here and now. It all seemed too strange. She lifted herself up a bit. He pushed her long ponytail to the other side of her.

"No need to beg." His nose dipped against her skin.

She chewed her lips when he kissed her skin. She had to remind herself this man was downright awful and a product of Irene's misdoings. She had to in order to stop herself from giving in to his willingness to satisfy her in all the ways she needed. His tongue tasted her reassuringly before she decided to right herself up. He still leaned into her, still had his hands in hers.

"Computer." She lifted her hand easily toward the mouse. His hand followed. "Please."

The man seemed to sigh with disappointment as he righted her computer. His hands showed her how to fix it as his body leaned closer to her. She didn't mean to encourage him, but her body reacted to his scent and to his touch. He licked her neck and cheek. Molly bit her lip and leaned her bum into him as he pushed her forward. She could feel his growing arousal. Molly couldn't remember the last time she had felt something so good.

"There." He insisted. "All done." He slowly moved her hands from hers. He placed them against her stomach which churned with excited anticipation. She squirmed against him. "You smell so good." He insisted in a voice that was surprising. "Why do you smell so good?"

She slowly realized that while Irene had made this wolf known as Moriarty she had failed to teach him the ways of the world he lived in, at least the birds and the bees portion. He maneuvered one hand further down her body against her crotch causing her to squirm.

"You're so warm. So warm here. So much pain." He pressed his hand against her sex covered in her work pants. She yelped nearly in satisfaction at the pressure. She felt him harden against her bum tenting in his pants.

"You can't leave here like that." She pressed her body back against his pushing her bum outwards toward his erection. He cupped her breast surprisingly though slowly moved to peer at her name tag.

"Molly Hooper." He gleamed in a slow smile. "I think Irene told me about you." Of course she had, but she knew lust was clouding the poor Jim Moriarty's mind from such things as how dangerous an alpha like Molly Hooper could be to Jim's operation.

"Mmmm," She bit her lip again grinding her bum rhythmically against his erection. His breath became uneven as he matched her encouragement pushing as she leaned back. "Did she tell you I'd smell this good?" His hands went to her hips to keep her still as she push against him and he against her.

"I've never smelt anything like you." He gasped when he felt her lean back then grind into him.

She could tell he was completely taken over by her. She was too much for him to handle. Her scent had caught him off guard. If she encouraged him enough she could probably lead him to Sherlock. She couldn't tell the consulting detective who the I.T. guy was when she brought him in, but she could give him some clues as to who he was. She could –

"Oooo," She gasped as Jim grasped her breasts as he thrust against her clothed bum. "Down boy." She hissed putting less encouragement on him. She took his hands from her breasts and back to her hips. "I don't want people talking."

"People are stupid." He hissed. "Let them talk. I want to make you sing." He pushed her backwards into him. She started to grind against him though a bit slower and easier. His fingers pet her crouch once more. She could feel the smile he had kiss her neck. "Are you wet for me, Molly?" She was wet, but it was mostly from the heat that was pressing on her body, though some was arousal. She had to make him feel comfortable with her, safe.

"It hurts, Jim." She bit her lip closing her eyes moving against him. "Can you fix it?"

The words caused a low growl in the young wolf's voice. He was rock solid under his pants. She imagined the erection was incredibly painful. Her bum pressed backwards kneading fast into his growing arousal. Her palms clutched the desk as she looked at her screen, fixed and on her password screen. The icon was a fluffy tabby cat yawning. She bent forward as Jim followed holding hands to hips as he thrust against her clothed form. Slowly one hand was brought to her sex. He pressed her fingers against her causing her to gasp. She pressed into his hand. He tried to find the buttons to release her. She pushed him away.

"I want to fix it. I want to fix you." He nearly pleaded with her. Good. She needed that. She needed that if she was going to release him on Sherlock. If he became too much for the consulting detective she could easily find a way out for him.

"What do you need, baby?" She asked fairly strongly. She knew if she gave him some kind of affection in the form of a nickname trust was going to be easier to build. It would also make things harder when she had to take him apart. Her hands were on his at her hips. Her bum thrust hard backwards. Her hand then went to stroke his cheek. "Tell me."

"You. I want you." He thrust hard then wildly without thinking he bent her forward. She caught herself on the desk gasping though remained in control with his rhyme. "Inside. I want inside."

"Jim you have to cum." She whispered. Molly leaned upward pressing against. "You're in pain. You need to cum. Please," She begged wiggling her bottom at his hard tented pants. "Cum for me Jim. Cum with me." She moved his hand to her crouch biting her lip again.

She knew this was a horrible thing to do to a person. To make someone feel safe then take it from them was awful, but she reminded herself who this wolf was, what he did. He seemed encouraged by her words moving with her as he pressed and stroked her sex. It felt good. It felt too God damn good. He growled against her suckling on her neck. She wanted to tell him to stop. That marking her was not alright in her book, but again it felt too good. She was too lost in the moment, him dry humping her from behind, touching her where she needed to be touched. She leaned forward feeling that they were both close to the end. She turned up the volume on her desktop before typing in her password, MrsHolmes, a regretful password in that moment.

He pressed his hand hard into her sex. She cried out with him as the computer rebooted itself making the sound that it was at the desktop background once more. He gave a meaningful thrust before nipping her neck. He continued to rub her below. She was only slightly wet down there, but it had made her heat a lot more bearable. She was not as tense or hot as she had been before he had come into her office.

"You're very clever, Molly Hooper." He moved around her mouse aimlessly. He kissed her cheek with a peck then a longer suckling wet kiss. "Mmmm, you still smell good. You taste even better." He licked the fingers that were against her sex.

She slowly turned in his arms to face him finally. She didn't know whether she should think it sad that she had been pleased by this wolf without ever seeing his face. He was handsome enough with brown hair and large sunken eyes that reamed with heavy bags. He wore a tight white V-neck that shrunk around him with glistening sweat. He had on brown jeans that held a stain from his release.

She didn't know why she did the next thing she did, but she blamed it on her heat and how close he was to her. She grabbed his cheeks and kissed him, tongue first taking in his mouth. He responded eagerly with her. She had to remind herself of how much she hated being like Irene to get her through the next bits she had to do. She had to. She had to because Moriarty was a bad man, a bad wolf, who needed to be stopped despite how innocently horny he was in that moment. She had to use what she had at her disposal, right now she had sex. She had his desire, his need for her.

"I need you to come with me." She told him when she broke from the sloppy kiss.

"I think I already have." He laughed. He wrapped his arms around her pushing into her. "Unless you want to go again, which I wouldn't mind." He sniffed her hair. She closed her eyes at the subtle intimacy. In normal moments it was the soft intimacy that she adored. "I could have you in so many different ways. God I would love to take you right now." He pushed her until she sat on the desk. His hand kneaded her breast as he kissed against her neck further down. She stretched her neck upwards unable to help herself.

"Jim," She moaned trying to regain her wits. She could over power him so easily. She could kill him very easily too. Then everything would be over, but that wouldn't be fair to Sherlock or Moriarty. Jim was just a pawn while Sherlock would never get the answer to his game. "Please. Listen to me." To her surprise he listened and looked up at her.

"Yes?" God why did he have to look at her like that? Like she was a world in herself? Why couldn't he look at her with lust filled raging eyes? This was devotion. He was completely devoted to her. It made her bite her lip and look at him with her own kind of lust. He still smelt good. He still smelt in complete arousal.

"Just," One more. One more couldn't hurt. She took his hand and placed it on the button of her pants. "Please. Make me orgasm." She could see his eyes fill with joy. It was cruel what she was doing. She was using him to make her pain go away, but she was also using him to –

"You smell better down here." He had dropped to his knees as her pants went down around her ankles. His nose sniffed at her wet panties. "I . . . can't . . ." She looked down at him wandering if the lust had finally worn out. She scratched his head in encouragement.

"You don't have to, sweetie." She swallowed slowly. "But you have to understand I can't let you take me here. I'd like to be comfortable when that happens. Understand?" She saw him look up at her.

"I don't mean I can't physically. I mean . . ." He paused tickling her covered slit. She shivered at the reaction. Every part of her down there was swollen with desire. "I was supposed to do something here." He looked up at her as he spread her thighs wider on the desk. "You distracted me." She pet his head.

"You don't have to." She repeated again. "By all means go do what you haaaaaada –"

Her panties were down and he was tasting her. She nearly crumbled when she felt his lips, his tongue lapping at her juices encouraging her to make more. She squirmed against him as his fingers caressed and pried her thighs apart. He suckled against her clit. His tongue traced the edges of her slit.

"So good." He mumbled into her. "You taste so good, Molly." She moaned as his thumb rubbed her.

"Pressure. I need pressure. Please, so – God – so hot. Please." She was so needy in that moment.

He started to move his mouth across her. She bit her lip. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he began to eat her out pressing into her as he did it. She couldn't remember the last time someone had done this to her. It had to be years. Had to be. Right now, it was the wolf who was ruining Sherlock Holmes' life or making it better depending on who –

"Ooooohhhhh." Her hips jerked forward when he suckled her clit again. "Yes!"

One hand was against his head while the other covered her mouth. Jim didn't pause, but furthered his exploration of the noise she made. She repeated those noises gnawing at her lip and clasping her mouth. Her eyes squeezed as she felt a wave of pleasure smash against her. Her body pulsed for a few seconds as she came down from her orgasm. She rolled her lips together looking down at Jim who lapped at her juices and numb center.

"Please, stop, Jim." She whispered. He looked up at her face wet. She pulled a tissue from a box on the desk. "I don't want to cum again."

"Why?" He tilted his head. She gave him the tissue.

"I actually have to work at some point." She shivered a bit when his tongue went around his lips to clean off her juices rather than using the tissue. "And I'm sure you do too." She shifted to her feet pulling up her panties and pants.

"Yes, right." He seemed almost disappointed. "I suppose so." He let out a hefty sigh.

She buttoned herself back up. She could see the disappointment in his face. She grabbed him and kissed him sweetly. She tasted herself on his lips. It made her smile in the most awful way. She was proud of herself. The old Molly was coming through, the one who hurt people for no reason at all. She wouldn't become that. Not again. She would give this wolf what he wanted.

"Thank you for fixing me and my computer." She said before kissing him again. She heard him laugh. She wondered if that laugh ever sounded innocent.

"I'd like to do it again. You're not quite repaired all the way." He rubbed her hips and kissed under her chin grumbling a growl. "I'd like to be inside you."

"Your tongue found its way in." She smiled feeling the back of his neck. Her hand traced the ridges of bites and tears inflicted on him to teach him a lesson about obedience. She didn't have to wonder who would torture him so poorly. She knew Irene was always cruel even with her best toys.

"I want my cock inside of you. I want to cum inside you and make you scream my name." He sounded so harsh and violent when he spoke. She kept her composure pushing down a gulp of fear. She wondered if he could sense that his tone frightened her. That he sounded as if he would do it whether she wanted it or not.

"Dirty boy." She cocked a smile kissing his forehead. She rubbed herself against his thigh a bit. "I bet you want to do all kinds of nasty things to me." She couldn't help how she felt. While in heat any amount of sexual experience that wasn't the physical act of sex was never enough. Molly even knew that once a wolf in heat actually had sex the numbing of the pain only lasted a few hours, then the pain returned again.

"You're a bit dirty yourself, sweet little Molly." He rubbed behind her ear where her ponytail laid. "Rubbed against me without even seeing my face. Nasty little minx."

"I could smell you." Her nose trailed his neck. "I know a big bad wolf when I smell him."

She licked his neck from the bottom up and over the tip of his chin. He looked down at her and kissed her, tongue ramming into her mouth. She shuttered feeling the need to do what he wanted, but she did have work and she knew he had things to do, like spying on the man she loved. He was too young and new to know what each of the smells that polluted the air meant. He released her growling softly. He then grabbed the tissue and a pen writing a number on it. He handed it to her.

"You'll call me when you need me." He pet her cheek softly. "For anything. Anything at all, love. I'll come to you." He kissed her forehead giving a slow sweet smile.

"I hope you'll cum with me too." She squirmed rubbing against his thigh. "I'm sorry I'm so –"

"Never apologize for being yourself, Molly." He rubbed her shoulders softly. "You should always be proud of who you are." She leaned forward to kiss him again, but he leaned backwards. "I'm sorry. I can't. You smell too good and I really do need to go, but, please," He taped the tissue. "Call me when you need me inside you."

"Now please." She couldn't stop herself. Years of practice of denying men and wolf alike from taking her had gone out the window in that moment. She had flown too close to the sun. She was melting. "Please, Jim. Please take me now." Her body quivered. The high of her last orgasm was already gone. She was in pain again.

"I can't." He slowly let go of her. She saw his eyes were saying a different story. "Know that I want to." His eyes worked over her body. "God how I want to." He licked his lips. She stepped forward. If she really wanted to, she could take him, make him stay. She had control over her body more then her hormonal mind at the moment. "But I have business to attend to, but afterwards," His eyes went to the tissue again. "You call me and I will do _anything _you want Molly. I will please you until you can't cum anymore, until your body is shattered." He backed against the wall reaching for the door, eyes on her.

"Please, stay." He hesitated suddenly shying his eyes from her. "Please. I need you. I need you here." She squirmed touching her sex rubbing herself gently. She saw him shake with hesitation.

"Goodbye, Molly dear."

He left. He left her alone in her office.

She shouldn't have come into work today. She shouldn't have come at all. She looked at his number and knew she would call. She knew he'd fall in her trap.

* * *

She had managed it.

Molly Hooper had managed to spend the next day or two at her mother's calling Mike saying she couldn't come in. She couldn't risk smelling Jim again or Sherlock. She was proud of herself. Jim's number was untouched though three turkeys and four rabbits had met their end in those days. She had examined that she had become more aggressive when she actually had some kind of sexual contact during her heat. It was the first time she had had sexual contact with a wolf during this time of the month. Her mother had smelt it on her.

"Oh Molly, not him." Had been the first words out of her mother's mouth.

It was worse when she tried to explain what she was doing.

"You're doing what Irene has been doing to loads of men, dearie. You can't be blind to it."

"Irene gets real men." Molly insisted letting out her anger. "She gets human men fawning over her. I have the wolves."

"Oh Molly," Her mother had urged her to come to her level. Molly had reluctantly laid her head in her mother's lap in her wheelchair. Ida had slowly pet her daughter's hair. "Irene's beauty is skin deep. You have true power. You have a natural allure to these male wolves because you are so giving, so loving. I just don't want you getting hurt, darling." Molly had looked up into her mother's eyes feeling her love, but hating the way her body wanted to run from her. She terribly missed being held and comforted this way.

"I'll be hurting him."

"Yes I know," The older wolf had stated. "That's what I mean. You're such a kind soul that even hurting someone who has been so vile and cruel stings you."

"I used him, Mummy." She knew there would be few times she would be able to say those words again. "For the heat and to take him down."

"You're your father's daughter." She remembered wanting to push her away when she kissed her forehead. "You do what needs to be done."

Right now she was struggling with that fact. She stared at her phone, alone in her flat on her birthday wriggling from just how bad she wanted to place the call for all the wrong reasons. She needed to lie, but sound truthful at the same time. She knew it wouldn't be hard to do. All she had to do was pick up the phone.

So why was it so difficult? Why was she struggling?

Her hands were shaking. She'd have to take London. She'd have to go against what her father wanted for her. She'd have to be alpha Molly. She couldn't go back to fawning over the consulting detective. She couldn't go back to being his sweet little pathologist. She'd have to make ruling. She'd have to hurt people. She'd have to kill wolves. She would have to clean up the city in the worse way possible and she'd have to make them fear her, respect her.

Molly wondered if there was any way she could go back after it, after the phone call, after the cleanup. Could she pretend? Could she pretend to be Sherlock Holmes' pathologist again? Could she still love him? She knew she would, but she wondered if loving him after she gained her status as alpha would harm in any way, put a target on his back.

"Do what needs to be done." She sighed and picked up the phone dialing his number, trying to push all the negative thoughts away. It rang for a while.

"Hello." She could hear the irritation. She swallowed feeling her heart pick up.

"Jim?"

"Yes of course it is. What do you want?" She realized then that he had given her his number, but he didn't know hers. Perhaps he had even forgotten about her. Then again she had only said one word.

"Jim, please," She sounded on the verge of tears. The pain was helping in her act. She had refrained from using any sex toys during the day in order to gain a more realistic need for Moriarty to come to her. She had to call him that in head from now on. He wasn't needy pleading Jim. He was James Moriarty, consulting criminal. "I need you." She paused giving a breath and gasp. "You said you'd do anything for me, anything to me. I need you to come to my flat and have me, you understand," She bit her lip then felt a real searing pain in her groin. "It hurts so much Jim. I hurt so bad. I need you to fill me up. Please. God, Jim, please, I can't take care of myself anymore. I've been sitting here trying to because I know you're a busy man, but I can't . . . not anymore." She sighed. "My fingers aren't enough. I need you. I need your cock inside me."

"Say that again!" She didn't expect that reaction from him then again male wolves who became sexual with a wolf in heat became incredibly aggressive. "Say that again and know if you are lying to me I will find you and I will skkkkkiiiiiiiinnnn you." He was on the phone. He couldn't smell her. Molly had to remind herself of that. In person he'd fall to his knees and beg for her.

"Your cock." Molly wriggled at the mention of the phallic imagery. "Inside me. Need you. Need you now." She rattled off her address to him leaning against the counter in her kitchen. "Please hurry."

He said something before hanging up. She sighed loudly knowing the hard part was over. She took her mobile with her as she went into her bedroom. She started to undress out of her dirty clothes and into something more alluring and bright. She wiggled into a bright pink lace dress with a high collar. She could greet him at the door naked, but that was especially cruel. It'd be something Irene would do. She was sinking to her level, but she wouldn't go that low. She finished zipping herself up when her phone rung.

It was Jim.

"If we're going to do what you say we're going to do I will be very pleased." He stated. "If not there might be some spanking involved."

"Don't tease me Jim." She bit her lip feeling the charade start to turn on her. "I do love a good spanking." She heard him chuckle.

"Oh I can't wait to bury myself inside you." He sounded sincere.

"You can't cum inside me I'm afraid." Molly started for the bathroom.

"You said –"

"I mean we're going to need to use protection." Her hands shook when she reached for the lipstick on the sink in the bath. It clattered and fell into the sink.

"What was that?" She picked it up and put the bright shade of pink on her lips.

"I'm getting myself ready for you. I'm a bit shaky from anticipation." None of what she had been saying so far had been a lie. She did need him, biologically speaking. Someone inside her is what she needed. "And protection is needed because I don't wish to get pregnant."

"My mind isn't clear enough to be thinking. Yes of course. So clever, my she-wolf." She cringed at the words remembering countless suitors calling Irene that same pet name. "What else would you like me to do to you when I arrive? I would like to be prepared. Tell my people how long they can expect me to be indispose." He popped the last word excitedly.

"Of course have me as a normal human couple would." She prompted deciding to be incredibly truthful for the first time about her sexual desires. "Then from behind. That's how I really want you to have me. It's how real wolves mate in the wild. I want you behind me, dominating me, possessing me, taking a hold of me and crying out."

"Mmmm," He hummed. "That sounds delicious. You're not as innocent and sweet as you look. How else do you want me?"

"You'll eat me out again won't you?"

"Of course my dear. You tasted so delicious the first time. How could I resist a second helping?" Part of her hated for this to be untrue. Her body wanted this. Her mind reminded her he had blown up a neighborhood.

"Very good." She pulled her ponytail out fanning her hair down her shoulders, long and lovely. He could smell her easier this way. "Then I think I'd like to have a taste of you considering all you've done for me."

"Would you now?" He seemed so pleased. "I'd like to fuck your tits."

"Oh now are we deciding on what is to happen this evening?" She ticked the roof of her mouth. "That's very shameful of you Jim. I thought you wanted to please me."

"I'd like to." He pleaded. "Can I? Your breasts are so lovely. I didn't mean to be vulgar." He was needy Jim again. "Please. Can I?"

"Perhaps. If you make me cum –"

"You'll lose yourself while I'm inside you tonight." He breathed heavily. "I promise I'll satisfy you. I swear."

"Will you," She paused feeling the next request she had would feel too real. It felt like something she would ask of someone she loved. Something she wanted to ask to Sherlock. "Whisper my name when you're inside me? Will you scream it when you cum?"

"Of course. You don't even need to ask that dearie." Jim stated clearly. "Now I'm getting quite hard picturing you naked before me, picturing you bent over bare ass in the air ready for the taking."

"I'm quite turned on myself." It wasn't a lie. It was the truth. "Come soon. Are you on your way?"

"Yes, but I've brought along two of my men." She swallowed.

"Are they wolves?"

"What does it matter?" He wondered.

"If they're wolves," She hesitated with the new wrench thrown into her plan. "They'll smell me. They'll want me like you do." She waited for a response, but got silence at the other end.

"They'll wait outside."

"Could you wait outside with someone as delicious smelling as me just behind a simple pliable door?" There was silence again.

"It's too late. We're coming up." The phone went dead.

Molly bit her lip trying to stop her mind from clouding. She remembered Jim's scent, musky with the overly sweet scent of honey. If three wolves came up at once she'd want all three. She had to focus on Jim if things were going to go as she wanted them. There was a knock. She shuffled out toward the front door beside her small kitchen. She could see Moriarty in a suit through the peephole. She had to remind herself that this was Moriarty. Not Jim.

She flung the door open smiling when she saw him. He took a step in grinning like a fool. She swung her arms and legs around him jumping him. Her lips pressed against his mouth opening, welcoming his tongue. One hand was against the spot between her shoulders while the other squeezed her bum. He rammed her into the closest wall he could find which ended up not being a wall at all but her refrigerator. She gasped feeling him bite the lace at her collar. She let her legs from around him setting her bare feet to the floor. The two wolves followed after him. They were different in size. One was small, thin reeking of drugs in his blood stream. The other was tall with wide arms, head, and shoulder. He folded his arms defiantly. Both of the wolves eyes were black and on her. They advanced forward in her direction.

"Jim." She warned nudging her forehead toward them. He turned right before he was going to bury himself in her breasts. He saw their eyes.

"Oiy!" He shooed them outside. "Mine! Out!" She watched as the two wolves reluctantly went back the way they came.

"She smells good." The thin one remarked. "God she smells good."

"Like a bleeding rainbow. I want her." The bigger one insisted taking a step toward her. Jim snarled and snapped biting the back of his neck. He yelped.

"Mine," He snarled low and harsh. "Out." He then turned to Molly. Blood smeared across his lips. Her eyes gleamed with his dominating presence and power. "Sorry, I wanted protection while I defiled you." He started forward. "I wanted no interrupt or worry." His hand went through her hair. She leaned into the touch. "I didn't know they'd react so violently. Billy's tame, but Ivan can be a handful." He leaned forward and kissed her down her body until he got to her breasts then he started to lick the edges of the lace. "You aren't wearing a bra." His thumb flicked her hardened nipple. "That's very good."

"You seem to have a very good fascination with that part of my anatomy." She then saw he had gotten blood down on her. "I want a taste Jim." She pushed his chin up so that he was looking at her. "Let me taste how you discipline your wolves." He smiled gleefully taking her mouth fully. The blood tasted bitter not pleasant at all, but the sweet iron made her squirm for the hunt.

"You're so beautifully wicked, Molly." She hated those words, though she smiled when he said them. They were words for the old Molly, the Molly she was becoming again.

"Pressure, please." She pushed him toward her. He nodded pressing his body into hers. Their groins met. He began grinding against her pressing hard on her. She gasped trying not to cum so soon, but it had been so long she wondered if she could stop herself. She bit her lip and pleaded for more. "Harder. Fuck me harder."

"Such a mouth on you." He teased catching her mouth for a kiss. "I'm not even inside you yet and you already you want it hard and rough."

"I can't hold on. Please. I need to –"

He thrust against only a few more times before she was calling out mixes of yeses and harders with the occasional oh god. She was lost in her own fantasy until she came and then literally came to her senses. He was still hard. That was good. That was very good.

"I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Moriarty asked. He pet her face. "I love it when you cum. You get me so hard with those little squeals you make. I'm especially fond of the yeses. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"No," Her voice was soft and reluctant. What if she just let him fuck her? What if he came inside her? What if she just let him do all the things she had needed him to do? She couldn't though. She couldn't lose her virginity to this man. Not after what he did to the man she truly loved even if he didn't love her back. "I'm sorry for this." She unzipped his fly and pulled his rock hard cock tightly in her hands, yanking too hard. He screamed in pain. Her eyes watered with his.

"Bitch!" He screamed. "You bitch!"

The wolves burst in snarling ready to defend their master.

"You move closer and I tear them off." She squeezed tighter. He yelped in a high pitch reserved for only the most feminine wolves. "You hear me, balls and shaft. All." She looked Moriarty in the eyes. His were pleading for mercy. "You tell your boys to take two steps back. Now!"

"Two steps back!" He shouted with zero hesitation. His eyes, still full of lust, gazed into her eyes. "What do you want?"

"I want you to leave London."

"Why when I'm having so much –" He screamed as her nails dug deep into his flesh.

"Because I suspect you'd like to keep these." She placed her forehead against his closing her eyes and sniffing him. "Cumming is quite lovely isn't Jim? Don't you want to be able to orgasm again. Alone or with a friend. You can't do that without these." Her fingers stretched to tickle his undercarriage. She started to stroke his shaft gently then quicken her pacing. He gasped at the sudden arousal he felt. "Doesn't it feel good?" She heaved her chest against him. "Don't you want to keep them?" She then stopped stroked and returned to grasping almost hard enough to tear him up.

"You want me out? Alright, but what about –"

"Everyone else stays."

"What will happen to them?" She looked to see actual concern.

"Well," She let him go. He fell to his knees. Molly looked over the two men standing before her then down at Jim pressing his hand against his injured cock. "Those two have proved they can be loyal." She started forward. She pressed her hand to Billy's face. His eyes immediately widened. She stroked his cheek as he greedily leaned into her touch. "Have you not shown these wolves any affection? For shame." She took Billy into her arms and stroked his hair. She could smell his arousal and Ivan's who stepped closer. He bent down so that she could pet his head.

"What are you doing?" Jim squeaked out. She supposed she hadn't realized her strength when she had grabbed him.

"Showing these boys some attention."

"They just want to fuck you." Jim laughed. Billy licked her shoulder. Ivan kissed her palm.

"Can't you feel the calm. They're sated. They're perfect." She kissed each of their foreheads. "They'll be the only ones I save merely because they showed they can be good boys." She looked both men in the eyes. "You'll be good for your new mistress won't you?" They nodded slowly as if in a stupor.

"Yes Mistress we'll be good." Billy stated leaning forward. She stroked his back. "Will you continue to . . . do this?"

"Yes please." Ivan begged. "Please Mistress. It feels so good. It feels like just before –"

"Yes I can continue to make you at peace, but I must first talk with Moriarty." She backed away from them motioning her eyes for the door. They left her and Jim alone. She looked down at him almost feeling sorry for him. "Please stand. You're pathetic." He shifted upwards snarling. She slapped him. "Don't act like a boy. Know when you're beat. You can smell it on me. The power. It's what you're attracted to right? Why you craved Irene."

"You smell better than her." He said. Molly couldn't help, but smile. He sniffed the air. "That turns you on doesn't it? Being better than her. To know that the wolf she made would much rather screw you then her."

"What do you mean?" Her brow creased.

"Unlike you Molly I'm not a liar." He straightened himself up. "She smelt a bit like you do now. She begged me to take her, but I didn't want her. Even though she smelled divine. I didn't want to help her suffering. She gave me no instinctive. She may have turned me, but she beat and belittled me. Why would I let myself inside a woman like her? Besides she was a whore. You," He leaned forward sniffing her neck. "Smell clean. Pure."

"What you smell is virginity."

"Is that it?" He smiled wide and proudly. "You still have a sliver of innocence to you Miss Hooper."

"And you're wrong." She stood up straight feeling the back of his neck where the scars of the bites ridged together. "I'm not a liar."

"You said –"

"I said I needed you. I do. I do _need_ you, but I don't want you." She swallowed hard feeling tears well up in her eyes. "How could I ever want a filthy creature like you inside me?" She hated herself for saying those words. She could see how much it hurt him. Molly hated being cruel, but there was no way she'd get him out of London without a mix of cruelty and kindness.

"I wanted you." He insisted. "I still do. Despite everything."

"I know." Molly scratched her nails against the back of his head. "It's nature to want a wolf in heat."

"I didn't want Irene. I want you." He went to kiss her. She let him. It felt good to kiss him again despite everything she had done. Tears ran down her cheeks despite it all.

"I'm just your right kind of aroma. Irene wasn't your fix." She kissed his lips slowly.

"You're giving me mixed signals Molly." He stated when she started to kiss his neck. "Do you want me to stay or go?"

"Go. Go north. Leave London or I'll rip you apart." She leaned against him feeling his hard cock against her dress.

"You're words say no." He grabbed her bum. "But your body is telling a different story." He grinned. She slapped him.

"I'm in heat. I need sexual satisfaction." She kissed him holding the back of his head. He grabbed her hips and rocking against her. "And you," She reached down for his cock though he flinched when she did. "Need to relax and let me make you cum."

"Why? That won't do anything for you."

"It would make everything I've done to you and everything Adler's done to you easier to handle." She decided to say. "Now you can't be inside me, but everything else is available. You pick one."

She took his hand leading him to the bedroom. Molly thought he might run or take off, but when she turned around she saw the reluctant trust in his eyes. She slowly pushed him down to her pink worn comforter decorated with about several fluffy pink and purple pillows.

"Am I on a bloody cloud?"

"Shut up." She leaned down and kissed him. "Have you decided what you wanted?"

"It shouldn't be this easy." He decided to say. "I shouldn't get to screw the alpha –"

"That's the one thing you can't do."

"Right, well, I shouldn't get to have the alpha _pleasure_ me," He watched her eyes seeing her smile. "Then leave London forever no strings attached."

"I did say if you don't leave you won't have your lovely set any more," Her fingers ghosted over her shaft and balls. "And all your men are dying."

"Yes, but," He shook his head. He looked into her eyes. "You really don't have to give me what you're about to, but you are. Why?"

"Because," She laid next to him letting her head rest against his shoulder. "I'm in need, but so are you. I know what it's like to want someone you can't have." She nibbled at his lips. "You cared for Irene before she started to discipline you. I can smell it every time her name is mentioned. So," She sat up looking down at him. "Don't look a gifted horse in the mouth. Enjoy yourself before exile." She started to undo his tie.

"Wait," He held up his hand. He started to put his pants back on. He zipped them up quickly. There was only a bulge in his pants. "I want to see you naked."

"A very simple request." She smiled.

She stood up at the foot of the bed. Molly unzipped the back letting the material pool around her. All that she had on were a pink lace panties that were quite see through. She bit her lip watching as Jim examined her as she wiggled free of those too. He sat up motioning her toward him. She put her arms around his neck and straddled him grinding against his bulge which now poked her entrance. She pressed against it harder. He yelped.

"Sorry," Molly apologized. "It hurts."

"What usually makes it stop?"

"Nothing." She sighed.

"That must be frustrating."

"Incredibly." She squirmed against him.

"You need something inside you I suspect."

"The heat is caused by a swollen vulva."

"I can see." He traced his fingers against her swollen area.

"This isn't about me." Molly started to kiss him slowly and grind herself against him. "Now that you've seen my breasts do you still want to fuck them?" His hands went to fondle them gentle grazing his thumbs against her hardened nipples. He bent down to lick them one at a time. She arched against him.

"Mmmm, I like that smell." He moaned as he suckled the flesh of her left breast.

"What?"

"You're arousal. It makes me excited." Moriarty concluded.

"Decide what you want."

"I'm afraid to." He looked to her. "You did threaten to rip off my cock."

"And balls."

"And balls. Yes, how could I forget." He kissed her. She could feel how much he wanted this.

"I swear I won't rip you apart until after you cum." She laughed. "And if you're a good boy and do as you're told it won't be at all." He nuzzled her neck softly licking her. He fondled her breasts as he did.

"Are you sure I can't –"

"Positive Jim." She swore that was the last time she'd say his name. He looked into her eyes smiling.

"I've decided."

"Yes?"

"I'd like to," He paused looking down. "Feel your hand on me again." She laughed. "Yes I know you nearly tore my dick off, but it felt . . . good."

"What about fucking my tits?" Molly asked.

"Too beautiful for me to put my filthy cock between them." The words stung her.

She started to unzip his pants rubbing against him softly. She felt it strange that after everything Moriarty would be getting a hand job and then leaving. She felt it was too easy and she felt he knew it was too easy. She started off slow stroking his entire shaft before licking her lips. She leaned forward and kissed him as she gave him good hard long strokes. He gasped against her.

"Molly," He sighed. "Faster." She obeyed squeezing her hand around him giving him a tighter squeeze as she got to his head. "Molly." She leaned down. She felt bad. She felt bad for what he had been put through despite how awful he was. She had been awful once too. She had been worse than Jim Moriarty. Worse even then Irene Adler according to her.

"You're worse than me." She had told her when they were young. "At least I give them a chance. You plan ahead your cruelty. You kill without mercy or reason."

She licked the head of his cock and began to suck on it slowly spiraling her tongue around the tip. He tasted like he smelt. She went further down on him popping his cock in and out of his mouth fast. He whispered his name like he promised, screamed it when she sucked on his balls. They tightened and he came loud and hard. She milked the rest of him out with her hand.

"You didn't have to." He said breathless.

"I wanted to." She leaned forward and kissed him. She was surprised that he let her. "I think you should go now." He cleaned himself off with some tissues and towels she provided pulled up his trousers and was out of her sight.

Molly didn't see him after that.

She would have liked more. She would have liked to spend more time trying to help the wolf become a better man, but that time had passed. That time was over. He couldn't be tamed. He had been ruined by life and a certain female alpha. Molly just couldn't decide if that alpha was her or Irene.

* * *

Sarah's bedroom wasn't hot.

No it wasn't hot.

She had to keep reminding herself that. It was the middle of spring quite a decent temperature outside. Molly pressed her hand to her forehead letting out an exhale as she rolled around in the damp silky sheets. Hot, it was still hot – or – she was still hot, burning actually, on fire. She moaned and pleaded, but she knew Jim wasn't there to satisfy her slightly anymore.

"Molly what's wrong?" Sarah came in that morning in a hurry. She pressed her hand to her forehead. "Oh my God Molly! You're burning up!" She started for the bathroom. The alpha sat up.

"Sarah!" Her voice was hoarse as if from yelling too much. The blonde woman turned hovering over her.

"Molly I have to figure out what's –"

"I know what wrong with me." It was the wrong time for this and the right time for it. "I'm in heat."

"In heat? Only animals go into – oh." She paused looking at her wrinkling her brow. Sarah's eyes then widened. "Ooooohhhhh."

"Yes, I'll be in need of sexual satisfaction." It was the best way she could put it. She sat up in her silky pale pink baby doll night gown, wet from sweat and her own arousal. Her nipples popped out hard. "Which means," Her eyes were nearly black when she looked at Sarah. "I need to see Sherlock."

**A/N:** To Sherlolly fans, next chapter expect great things. To any Molliarty fans, hey look what just happened! Wasn't it lovely?!

I loved writing their banter. Also the little pieces about Molly's mom, who by the way I picture as Julie Walters, just make me so sad. Also a side note I picture Ivan as Tom Hardy for future reference because he will come up again. And a quick cameo from Billy! I absolutely love Billy!

If there's any characters you'd like to see more of or know more about let me know. Always great to hear what you guys think so feel free to review or send me PMs. Always happy to answer questions.


	7. Chapter 7

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Thank yous and hugs to Brytte Mystere and Paisayshi who reviewed last chapter.

Lots of Sherlolly moments in this chapter and to come from here out.

**Chapter Seven:**

Mycroft Holmes wasn't quite sure what had led him here.

Molly Hooper's flat wasn't exactly the first place he would have looked to find his little brother, but he was starting to run out of options. From the amount of blood spilled at the crime scene John Watson was most certainly dead. However it had been three days since the incident. Sherlock had yet to turn up. Neither his men nor the police force had any idea as to why or how the younger Holmes had gone missing.

"If you want something done, right." He rolled down his window looking up at the third floor apartment the pathologist resided in. He turned to his assistant, who tapped at her phone blinking long lashes every so often. She was pretty enough, good company when he pried her from that thing. She didn't seem to have any insight or interest on where his brother could be. "Stay in the car." She only nodded not looking up.

He sighed looking up at the floor Molly Hooper's flat was on. Mycroft left the luxury car slamming the door shut. He started for the door then it was up the long set of stairs. He really did need to get in better shape he supposed as the stairs were proving to be a bit much for him.

Why here? He had looked every place else for his dear brother. Mycroft thought maybe Sherlock had set up some safe house with the meek pathologist. He had gotten the keys from her landlady with some story. It was strange though. Molly seemed to have not been seen at her flat since Sherlock had gone missing. It made his theories of safe houses and the dangerous Moriarty's return all the more plausible.

He knew his brother cared about the young vibrant Miss Hooper. She was an excellent chemist not to mention very skilled in her work and she did have a work space for him to lounge about in. She had a good mind and a good heart. Mycroft had often warned that brother of his not to pull along people or skew their feelings, however Sherlock always proved to manipulate, even when he didn't mean to.

Mycroft went to open the door to Molly's flat, but it was already open. Wide open. If he had been a police officer or anything like that he would have raised his gun before entering. Unfortunately Mycroft had decided to go up by himself not thinking there'd be anyone, but Molly in her flat. Instead he slowly walked in. The place seemed too neat for the flat of a young woman in the prime of her life. Certainly Molly liked to keep her station neat at work (one of the good points of the female's according to his brother), but not at this strange lev-

"Don't be shy, Mr. Holmes." Heels clicked as a woman, black hair up dressed in a slinky olive green dress that caressed her long leather boots, came from the single bedroom on the left. She was in Mycroft's eye line now, smiling with red lips. Her hands held onto a silk pink piece of fabric. She played with it lovingly in her hands. "Do come in."

"Ms. Adler." He had dealt with the woman before.

"So nice of you to finally take an interest in the game." She rubbed the fabric under her chin smiling.

"Game?"

"Yes." She unraveled the fabric to reveal it to be a silk baby doll piece of lingerie. She held it to her body almost giggling at the shortness of it. He suspected it to be Miss Hooper's, too bright and innocent for the dominatrix that Irene Adler had proclaimed herself to be. "I'm always playing a game. If I can quote you." She grinned swinging her hips pushing the dress at her side.

"From what I understand –"

"Yes, yes Bulgaria." She swung her bottom to sit on the arm of Molly's brownish green couch. "Terribly boring. No fun. Not nearly enough diplomats to seduce. They all have their mistresses or are gay. Boring." She yawned patting her mouth. He looked at her with near shock. "Have you come looking for the lovely Miss Hooper? Because she hasn't been here in quite some time."

"Yes, I suspect that." He peered around noticing more things. She had taken things. Some sentimental spaces in the general vicinity were missing their objects. He also felt hollow in the room. Not nearly enough objects lying about.

"Left in a hurry." He looked at Irene who swung her legs. "Wonder why?"

"Certainly it has nothing to do with you or my brother does it Ms. Adler?"

"Me?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat before speaking. He took a long step into the room. The door shut softly behind him. "The last time you were in town you caused quite a stir."

"I made an impression on you." She smiled. Mycroft thought she looked like a cat in that moment. The woman always seemed to beam with confidence. "Got the British government so worked up with fear of scandal that no one," She stood up suddenly. He wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him when she was suddenly inches from him in a static blur. "Saw me," She ran her long fingernails down his neck looking at him with such loving confidence he wanted to slap it out of her. "Coming." She popped the last word out before giving a slanted smirk.

"Where is my brother, Irene?" Certainly he didn't know if she had taken him, but in asking he could see her reaction. She knew. She knew something because that smile seemed to fade slightly.

"How should I know?"

"You always threatened him." He saw her hand lower. Mycroft cleared his throat before speaking. "If I may quote you," His eyebrows went up. She didn't seem pleased with the mention of Sherlock or, his new found confidence. "He looks quite in need of a good spanking that brother of yours."

"Spankings are very mild in my line of business, Mr. Holmes. Your brother would be honored to have his arse to meet my hand." She raised it showing off her loving long fingers in a dance.

"Why are you here Ms. Adler?"

"Oooo," She cooed playing with the silk in her hands. "You're getting to the point now. Not as direct as all the other lesions of the government, but I do like a bit of fun in my men." She took a step back playing with the pink fabric looking down at it as it danced in her fingers. "Tracking. A bit of cat and mouse. Mouse doesn't seem to feel like getting caught."

"Is Miss Hooper the mouse?" Mycroft wondered.

He wasn't sure what kind of game Irene was truly playing. Molly didn't seem the type who was in need of her kind of service however he was usually surprised about people's sexual appetites. For all he knew Molly Hooper enjoyed being dominated by an attractive woman despite her infatuation with his brother.

"Oh no." Irene blinked lightly stepping toward Mycroft. Her finger nails slowly scratched into his face leaving faint indents of white in his skin. "Miss Hooper is the cat." She made a mewing nose before walking past Mycroft. His brow creased as he saw her bottom swing side to side. "Good luck finding all the pieces." Her head slightly turned as she grinned. "He's going to be in every crevasse of London when she's through with him, though I do hope she plays nice with the boy. He's such a tender piece of meat and I would like to have a go at him." He barely had time to let the words sink in before she was gone.

All Mycroft knew was that Molly must have had Sherlock and the Irene Adler was hot on their trail.

* * *

Sherlock had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't being imprisoned. It was hard considering that he was trapped in a drug den for four days with no contact with the outside world. Not that it really mattered. Generally speaking he was certain of several things however Sherlock still had some blanks in his mind. He wasn't sure what had happened to John, but he could judge.

"Not good." He mumbled to himself staring at the book opened in his hands.

"Sorry?"

His blue eyes looked up to see Billy licking the grease from his fingers. He chewed at them. In his four days in the drug den, Billy had made himself a constant. He fed him and got him water when needed. He also made sure to accompany the consulting detective to the bathroom and to the shower making sure he never strayed from his sight. Sherlock was concerned at first with the fierce loyalty the young man -wolf – (he still hadn't gotten used to calling them that) had to Molly, but he was coming around to admiring it even if he simply did it to feel that calm Molly had stated she gave off.

"Just," Sherlock looked back down to his book, to the images of wild wolves tearing into an elk. "Thinking out loud."

"Oh, right. You do that a lot." He observed.

"Yes, thank you for noticing." Sherlock turned the page hard realizing that this was the fifth time he had read this passage in the days he had spent there. He could see Billy begin to lick then start to playfully bite his hand. It was still strange to see a human being do that.

"Is it any good?" Billy asked between bites to his hand.

"Very factual." He sighed before looking up to raise his brow. "Is your hand any good?"

The young wolf paused in his actions as if he had been caught with something. Slowly his brow started to crease. A clatter of yips and barks came from outside causing Sherlock's attention to become redirected toward the window across from him. He had expected the sounds to be coming from neighborhood dogs, but instead the sounds had human qualities to them. His eyes then switched to Billy, who's head was craned toward the window. His nose flared at the air. He bolted up pushing pass whatever got in his way and out the room.

"Yes I know. Be still all of you." Molly's voice warned faintly from downstairs. a collection of whimpers and yelps flooded over her voice. "Let me through."

Sherlock slowly closed his book He peered to the entrance as he heard the ascending steps. He couldn't count the numbers until Molly's own growl and snap made its way out of her mouth. He shifted slightly on the bed.

"Out with you!" She hissed. "The lot of you, out! Patrol the perimeter and control yourselves!" She started up the stairs as others descended. Only two sets of footsteps were heard.

She entered the room looking like hell. Her hair was down, knotted, and unkempt. She looked as though she had just woken from the most relaxing or irritating sleep of her life. Her body seemed strangely tense while her eyes held a relaxed needy quality to them. They tore about the room searching, her nostrils flared. When her eyes and nose found him she squirmed. She was in a very tight forming denim skirt with black stocking. On her body was a U-neck baby doll gray sweater. She pulled at the ends looking at him and biting the corner of her lip. Her eyes developed a bedroom heavy quality to them.

"Much better." Molly closed her eyes smelling the air swaying her hips back and forth. "Lovely in fact." She started forward twisted a bit on her black heels. Sherlock watched Billy catch her under her arms. He dipped his nose into her hair.

"Molly." He breathed pressing his nose to her chin. She made a noise that sounded like something between a sigh and a purr when he helped her to her feet.

"Go away Billy." She sighed slipping out of her heels. Billy tensed, but pulled her closer to hold her in his arms.

"Molly." He sniffed her neck going further down. She took his hair, yanking him back when he neared her breasts.

"So sorry, love." She cooed sweetly. Molly held his face bending down to kiss his forehead. "But you can't have me. You're not an exception."

"I know, but . . ." He closed the gap between them so that their bodies were flat against one another. Sherlock could see Molly's eyes fall to his. She squirmed. He started for his feet. Billy threw a look toward him that was territorial.

"It's what I want, Billy." She turned the young wolf's face to her. He was lost in her eyes. Sherlock was nearly positive of the reasoning behind the yelps and the uncontrollable wolves begging at Molly's feet.

"Not what you need." He assured her. Molly looked toward Sherlock again. She bit her lip hard, sweat beaded on her forward. The cotton sweater clung to her chest. "Molly." Billy had her chin, turning it to him. He half expected Molly to growl or reprimand him, but she didn't. She laid her eyes soft on him. "Play nice." He then leaned down in a similar way that she had, kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes at the kiss leaning forward.

He stretched to reach her ear, whispering something in it that caused the alpha wolf to nod slowly with budding tears in her eyes. Billy made his way out of the room. There were no doors on any room in the drug den. No barriers. Sherlock waited seeing Molly scratch her arms as if she were an addict needing a fix. She pointed toward his cot.

"Sit over there, please." It was a squeak that reminded him of the times when he thought Molly Hooper was a beautiful little human woman.

He wondered why he thought her beautiful. Thinking that way was a distraction to his work. Then again he didn't exactly have a case to solve. He did as Molly said slowly sitting as if she were a wild animal about to attack at any moment. She slowly sat on her cot closing herself off. She touched her neck. He could see her fingers slide through the sweat and dirt on her.

"Are you alright, Molly?" Her eyes mistakenly looked up at him. She had starting of tears. He started to stand. She held up her hands.

"Please sit down Sherlock." She insisted looking back down. He did so. "Thank you for your concern, but I'll be just fine." Molly looked to the side laughing to herself in a mumble. "Should only last about a week."

"Your heat?"

The wolf looked up surprised. She saw him reach down. She flinched. He smiled lightly showing off the book. Her body relaxed only a little. She looked so very tense. Sweat was covering her body. He wondered if she was truly hot or just simply trying to hold back her urges.

"It says in here -" He spun through the book looking for the right section. Sherlock seemed to find it with ease.

"Please don't read it!" She pleaded looking at him. He paused looking up, but then looked back down at the book. Molly growled. He could she was leaning forward only stopping herself by gripping her fingers to the mattress which creaked slightly. "I don't need a damn book to tell me what's going wrong with me."

"It's natural isn't it?" Sherlock closed the book and returned it to the floor.

"Yes very." She squirmed reaching her hands to push her skirt down, but paused to rub her thighs slowly and methodically. "Every year around –"

"Your birth." She looked at him surprised. "It's in a few days. Correct?" She nodded. "It lasts for a week. Is it always around the full moon?" Molly nodded slower this time. Her fingernails gripped at the flesh between her stockings and the end of her skirt on each leg as if trying to keep herself from spreading her legs. "Does it . . . hurt?"

"Very much." Her body tensed at the last word closing her eyes. Her teeth were biting hard into her lip.

"What helps?"

"Changing." Her eyes softly fluttered open. "Into my wolf form. I look like a normal wolf when that happens. I can change at any point, but it helps with the aggression and the pain to hunt in that form."

"Then why –"

"Adler would catch my scent much easier in that form." Molly stated with no hesitation. "I'd like to keep you in one piece." Sherlock could see one hand creep up her skirt. He wanted to look down or away, but he was a bit fascinated or interested to see what she did. Her hand slid back down, fingers flexing. She ran that hand through her hair.

"Is that what usually eases the pain?"

"Usually, yes." She licked her lips a bit before letting her eyes settle on his. Her lips quivered as she began to speak stuttering. "I – um – also h-h-h-have toys that h-h-h-help, but there're at home." She then quickly looked away.

"Couldn't Billy –"

"No," She shook her head. "I know she's been at my house sniffing around." Molly sneered letting a little rumble of a growl escape from her throat at the thought. Her head was down shaking before looking up at Sherlock. "Besides, I couldn't risk harming any of my people, wolves or humans."

Despite what she was Sherlock knew this was the same Molly he had always come to rely on. The woman was someone he counted on most of all. He wondered if he should distract her from this pain with another pain.

"Molly," He let his eyes fall to the floor. "Is John dead?"

When he looked up he could tell the question he asked was wrong.

"I just," She was shaking a bit when he spoke. "Molly, I just need to know."

"I hope so." Molly muttered. His eyes were wide. She stood suddenly, too suddenly. Her legs were quivering. He took a stand approaching her. She shook her head violently closing her eyes looking away from him. "Sherlock sit down! Don't come any closer! You, smell, too much, too good." He took a step back, but didn't sit.

"What do you mean by that?" He sounded a bit jaded. She looked up at him through a wave of light brown hair.

"Blood, lots," She was breathing hard and heavy. "Flesh. Didn't see. She plays. Hoping he didn't suffer. Hoping she's not –"

"Torturing him." He sighed almost relieved. "You could smell if he died there right? Wolves smell rotting flesh, death." She nodded tears in her eyes. She sat on the cot with a painful whimper.

"He. Wasn't. Not there." Her toes curled hard making her feet redden. "Hot, so hot. Need." She pressed her thighs together. It was then that Sherlock noticed her pupils were dilated. They were nearly black, so very close to black.

"What? What do you need, Molly?" He was slow in his approach.

Sherlock suspected Molly didn't notice he was coming toward her until he was sitting beside her. When her eyes did fall to him she started to shrink back. Sherlock took her hand, small and delicate slowly between his hands. He kept his yees on her in reassurance. She was hot. It seemed as though she had a strong fever, however he knew better. She was not in need of relaxation. She held too many desires to rest her body.

"Molly." His breath whispered as she stared at the hands that held hers.

"Too," Her shoulders slumped then rose tense. Her hand wiggled free from his grasp. "Much. So much. Need." Her eyes were so pleading in that moment. He could see her throat vibrate to speak, to grunt out yelps. He touched the back of her head softly. Where her scalp met hair it was damp with sweat, yet still mildly smooth. "No. I'll –"

Sherlock leaned forward. He kissed her very chastely, pressing his lips to hers slow. It was very strange that her lips seemed so cold compared to the other spots on her body. She didn't lean in, but leaned back as if she disliked the kiss he gave her. He wasn't sure what this meant. Molly was protecting him from danger. He had often thought she had made everything up in order to somehow finally have him, but that wasn't Molly Hooper.

Molly Hooper was kind and always trying to save people, whether they were living or not. Perhaps this was gratitude. Yet there was that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that churned, there was the fact that his heart rate was quickening, and there was the fact that his mouth was opening, his mind praying she'd give him more instinctive to explore her delicate frame.

"Stop." Tears rolled down her face. He leaned back to see she was crying. He wiped those tears away.

"I'm not really particed in this form of affection or any for that matter, but I couldn't have been that awful." He saw the faint traces of a smile begin to form across her lips. She shook her head looking down.

"It doesn't help." She looked up at him eyes black and mouth pressed into a firm line. "You're only making it worse."

When he heard that he slowly dropped to his knees in front of her. He reached to touch her hand. He could hear her breathing quicken, her heart may have sped up to. Her hand cautiously reached to touch his head. She looked to him as if pleading or asking for permission.

"It's fine Molly." He assured with a laugh. She ran her hands greedily through his curls. Her chest heaved with a sigh. Her nostrils flared. Her eyes closed relaxed. She slowly opened and closed her legs as if in a rhythm. Sherlock could see the problem as she did it. "Your vulva is swollen, correct?"

"Yes." She breathed hands pulling and scraping at his curls. He reached to touch her where he suspected she needed to be touched. Two fingers stroked her panties lightly, but it was enough to make her yelp. She was wet, very wet from perhaps a mixture of things.

"It's what you need right?" He looked up to her. Her eyes hung heavy and needy. "Pressure. Pressure, here." He pressed harder on her this time. "Tell me."

"Yes, there, please. I need it."

Sherlock inched closer taking both of his hands on either side of her hips. He pulled down her panties. She gasped as she was exposed to the air. He stroked her slit with two fingers. Molly whimpered and leaned against him tugging at his hair harder as if in encouragement.

"You don't have to." She whispered against her will, he suspected. He continued to gently stroke her as she spoke. "Just because I'm in pain. I don't want you to, feel sorry for me."

Sherlock Holmes had never truthfully touched a woman this way. He was very much engrossed in his work, chemistry and his cases, however feeling the softness of her was nice. It was strange, but nice. The wetness was also a mix of odd and pleasant. His fingers pushed further into her letting Molly Hooper jerk and gasp against him. He pushed two fingers inside her. He found the way she let out a joyful yelp rather enjoyable. Perhaps it was his ego getting the better of him, but he rather liked being the source of her pleasure. All those wolves nipping at her and here he was, human, and making her whimper into his touch.

"Is that good Molly?" He started to pump his fingers

"I," He quickened his pace. "Oh." She moaned. "Please, more. Please, another. Please."

"So polite." He chuckled. Sherlock squeezed a third finger into her tightly. God she was so damn tight. She felt like velvet. His fingers felt so comfortable pumping inside her. "Better?"

"Yes." She leaned into him relaxing her hands in his hair.

"You want this, Molly?" He looked up at her continuing his slow pumps. Her face was burning red. Her eyes were black. She licked her lips greedily.

"So much." She squeaked.

"I want you to be satisfied." He told her. His thumb rubbed against her hood pressing on her a bit too hard from his perspective. She seemed to love the pressure. "You've been so good to me."

"Please want me. I always wanted you." She gasped as he pumped her fast. "Oh, always. Oh Sherlock. Smell so good. Need you. Relieve the pressure. Oh please. Pressssssssssssuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeee!" He could feel her muscles clench around him then a gushing of wetness as she screamed. He was hard. Sherlock's face reddened at the realization when he pulled his fingers from her. They were quite wet from her juices. Molly collapsed backwards on the bed.

"Molly." He whispered wondering if he should tell her. If he should tell her how he . . .

"I don't care if that was obligation." She sighed looking at his knelt position as she laid flat on her back. She squirmed against the sheets looking up at the ceiling. "It felt . . . mmmmm . . . so good." She let her eyes fall onto Sherlock again. She pet his head. "I'm glad I came here." She removed her fingers from his head then sniffed them before giving them a hard lick. He made a great effort not to cum when her tongue lapped at her finger and her beautiful thin lips suckled it.

"I'm glad you came Molly and I mean right now. I'm glad you came against my fingers right here and now." He laughed and she smiled.

"The pain's going to come back." She looked back up at the ceiling.

"Does anything relieve it?"

"Constant sexual intercourse. At least that's what I'm told." She blushed slightly. "Never done that and I'd prefer not to experience it on a dirty mattress in a drug den." Her cheeks flushed brighter as she sat up turning to him. "Not that I was implying that you would have sex with me even if you did just finger me to –"

"Molly."

"Yes?"

"Lie back." Her eyes were black, still. Sherlock watched as she hesitantly did so. He came to the foot of the bed, using his best attempt to hide the bulge in his sweats. He grabbed her thighs bringing her sex closer to him. "From what I understand," He started with the top button of her skirt. She wriggled slightly, but he stayed her with his hands on her hips. "Wolves engage in the licking of gentiles to show their affection."

"Sherlock?" The question was a lustful mix of excitement and sighs.

"Let me show you how much I care."

**A/N:** Whoo! Some revelations about lots of things happened in this chapter. So more of these two in the next chapter a bit from Molly's perspective.


	8. Chapter 8

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Thank yous and hugs to Brytte Mystere and Renaissancebooklover108 who reviewed last chapter.

More smut and some Billy!

**Chapter Eight:**

She was dead. She had to be.

Molly Hooper knew there was no other way around it. She had died and somehow had found her way into heaven after all her misdeeds. Sherlock Holmes wasn't going down on her eating away her pain like she always wanted him to. The tension on her body told her different. Heaven didn't have pain. Heaven was meant to only have –

"Oh!" It squeaked out as she arched her back. His soft cool finger spread her lips apart. She gasped when his tongue met her most sensitive part. He licked it with the tip of his tongue. She gave a heavily pleasant sigh.

Molly pushed herself forward angling herself so that Sherlock could reach her better. She hesitantly put her legs on either shoulder hoping he didn't mind her eagerness. He responded by lifting his hands to grab under her sweaty thighs as if to hold her in place. His lips worked wonders on her. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sounds of his tongue and lips lapping and moving over her to take in every bit of moisture she had.

"Mmmm," His tongue made a bold attempt to move inside her. "Oh yes, good, very good. Make me cum." She quivered as his tongue flicked across her clit. He gave her warm wet kisses against her thigh then on her center. He suckled at her clit then sloppily ate at her again. She arched herself leaning backwards biting at her lips hard. She reached down to ruffle his hair again.

That smell would make her cum easier. She hoped. God she hoped she would cum soon. Molly knew that while she was very much attracted to Sherlock he wasn't a wolf. Wolves had this other worldly way to instinctively knowing what females desired. She tried not to bring Jim up in her mind, but a flash of him greedily eating away at her in her office came through. She chased that vision away by ruffling his hair faster. The scent filled her up just as his tongue and lips circled and sucked at her clit again.

"OH GOD!" She screamed feeling her body pour out onto his lips.

She was soaking now. Molly collapsed feeling the pressure escape her completely. She had never been so satisfied. Despite the fact that Sherlock didn't have that lovely pull other wolves naturally had to her and vice versa he did have his smell. Her attraction to him made her body feel incline to react differently. Her body already yearned for him in that way despite it being unnatural. He licked at her still and she moaned deeply.

"More then?" He asked. His eyes peered at her with a soft smile. Her eyes were heavy and relaxed. She pet his head. Her thighs moved off his shoulders. She pat the space beside her.

"Not yet, but soon. Up here." She encouraged.

Sherlock slid beside her hesitantly. She continued to stroke his hair smiling at him examining his body. When her eyes and hand started further down he grabbed her wrist and kissed the top of her hand closing his eyes as if in ecstasy. She knew better.

"Thank you." She mumbled.

"No need." Her fingers pet his face softly. Molly would have loved to kiss him again, but she suspected that it'd hurt. He smelt too good. She could have bit his face off. She remembered Billy's warning.

"Remember he's fragile. He's human."

She wanted to wipe those words away and devour his lips, though he wouldn't be able to kiss her so tenderly down there again if she ate up those beautiful lips so she stopped herself. Instead she looked into his blue eyes and wondered what would have happened if Irene never came to town. She'd be hunting again by herself. She might have succumbed to a wolf, let someone please her again. After finally giving in last year she wasn't sure if she could take away the pleasure of being given sexual stimulation during her time of need. She had performed sex acts before and had had sex acts done to her however it was never during her heat. She was careful with that.

"You said you've never had sex before." Of course Sherlock would have to bring that up.

"No, other things, but not sex." She tried to make herself comfortable. Molly closed her legs hoping she wouldn't feel the urge come over her again when the consulting detective wasn't prepared.

"Has anyone ever done that to you before?"

"Yes," She watched his face trying to see a change in it, disappointment, relief. Something. He remained aloof. "Have you ever done that before?"

"No."

"Never?"

"Never." He assured her. "First time for everything I suppose." His eyes slowly glanced about before landing on hers again. He went to open his mouth. She could see remnants of lingering juices from herself on his lips. It made her smile. "Was it good?"

"Sherlock," She nearly laughed at him. "Anything right now would feel like heaven."

"Oh." He now seemed almost disappointed looking down. She stroked his cheek to reassure him.

"But yes, it was so very good." She trailed her thumb over his lips hoping he would suck on her thumb, kiss it, or even merely close his eyes. He remained numb furthering her suspicions. He was merely doing this as thanks for giving him refuge from Irene. "You know I could have just taken you for pleasure. There could be no danger out there at all. Not in the sl-"

"Please Molly," He huffed looking her over. "You don't lie. And this is not something you would ever do."

"Wolves in heat do crazy things."

"You weren't in heat when you brought me here." He did have his point. He started to reach for her hair. "Besides," He kissed her. The pain started to come back suddenly and in full force. "I am Sherlock Holmes. I can read you very well." She licked her lips tasting herself in his very tame kiss. "And right now." He moved himself down again. "Your pain's come back. Let me try to fix you."

His lips were truly a Godsend.

* * *

Billy approached the flat of Sarah Sawyer with caution. Molly's scent still lingered on every corner of the building. He shuddered at the scent. He had to remember that the first time he had encountered the alpha wolf had been when she was in the beginnings of her heat. His first reaction was to take in that rich aroma and want it all for himself. Drugs were no match to the scent of an alpha in heat or the touch of Molly Hooper.

He had given up any old remnants of the life that he had before for her. Moriarty had fed him drugs as a reward. All Molly had to do was stroke his face and it was enough, but it wasn't just her touch that kept him. His mistress was kind beyond any other wolf he had met since he had willingly succumbed to the bite. She was a wolf who ruled with a fair amount of give and take. If her wolves and humans did what she asked (she never asked for cruelty) then they were awarded greatly. If they did not, then – well – she dealt with them swiftly and harshly.

"No more drugs, sweetheart." He remembered she had kissed him behind his ear on that first request. He could still feel the tingle run through his body at the pheromones she gave off. "You have me now. I'll give you what you need." She had held him, close to her, nuzzling him with her lips and nose. He remembered feeling at home in that place where his chin had laid on her shoulder blade. "I want you to have a clean mind and body."

He kept his promise, only faltering once. He had been upset when she had not visited him like she had promised. Molly had been busy at work and dealing with Sherlock Holmes. Billy still wasn't sure how to feel about the man. Molly cared for him very deeply so he assumed he should as well, but Sherlock did not give his mistress what she desired, love, requited love. It still baffled him how a living being could not fall at Molly Hooper's feet. He had sworn it would just be a little bit. She had been so cross with him the next day. He hadn't even made it to the bed in the drug den. He was leaned against the wall. When he awoke she was staring at him with the purity of disappointment.

"On your feet." She had said through clenched teeth. He stumbled and nearly fell using the wall for support. "Is this how you want to be, love?" She had grabbed his chin in her hand squeezing hard and twisting slightly. He remembered hearing it crack and snap. He didn't feel the pain, only numbness. She tossed him back against the wall.

"Your jaw is broken." She told him running her index finger over her own jaw line. "I'll send someone tomorrow to have a look. You'll heal fast, but if you indulge in drugs again I will have no choice, but to break something else." She hadn't touched him after that.

Billy remembered whimpering as Doctor Sawyer had reset his jaw. He had begged Molly for forgiveness swearing to never be a bad boy again.

"I'll be good, I swear. I swear, Mistress." He had been on his knees begging her. Billy remembered seeing the hurt he felt reflected in her face. "Please keep me with you. Don't stop . . . don't stop loving me." He had kissed her feet smelling the mix of formaldehyde and bleach. It burned his eyes, but he didn't care. He needed her touch again, warm and safe. He needed to be reminded that he was no longer in danger.

"Oh, sweetheart," She had motioned him to stand, taking him in her arms. He remembered her fingers kneading into the loose skin and scars on the back of his neck. It hurt, but felt remarkably pleasant as well. "Of course I still love you. You're mine. You're my soldier. I just want what's best for you."

He remembered her tongue lapping at his flushed cheek then at his hair. He would have been fine dying in his arms then. She held him tight to her. Billy remembered noting how soft her breasts were from the rest of her body.

"If you're good, if you're loyal," He remembered these words as he sniffed the perimeter of Doctor Sawyer's flat. "You'll go very far in this pack." She had then touched his shoulder ready to walk away, but then suckled at the sore spot on his neck. It pained him greatly, but the moisture felt too good. He fell to his knees when she had left the room.

He buzzed Sarah on the intercom. Billy waited.

"Yes?" Her voice seemed tired.

"It's Billy. Billy Wiggins." He was patient. She buzzed him up.

It was frightening how much of Molly lingered here. He'd have to chase away these smells with something new. He hoped Sarah was well equipped to help him out, though part of his internal system knew he wanted more from this visit. He growled when she opened the door, the growl was more longing then angry. He came into her living room either way.

"Come in I guess." She seemed annoyed.

If he had been her he'd been annoyed too. She wasn't even an omega, she was the lowest wolf on the food chain. If he wanted to he could make her submit to him. If he wanted to. He wasn't sure what he intended to do once inside her home.

"Is Mol – Mistress –"

He noted at the correction she made, the way she folded her arms across her chest, and the narrowness of her eyes. Annoyed, afraid, and lonely. He searched around the room smelly the blankets sprawled on the sofa. He caught Sarah's scent. Molly had her bed while Sarah had the sofa. He smiled at Molly's control over the wolf.

"Is she alright?"

"In heat," He concluded shifting the blankets. He hated what the heat was doing to him. He smelt at the cushions chewing at the fibers lightly, hoping to smell something feminine in them. He couldn't bare to go into the bedroom and roll around in her moisture riddled sheets, though his eyes looked to the room every few seconds. "Pain. Can't be helped."

"Has she found someone to mate with?" He laughed when Sarah asked.

"Nobody is good enough for Mistress." He sniffed around the rest of the apartment rubbing his nose and mouth on all the corners marking his scent.

"Sherlock –"

"Yes," He agreed. "But only because Mistress wants him."

Billy did really envy the man for being the center of the alpha's wants. He couldn't imagine holding that attraction. He also hated the man for not returning her feelings. It was idiotic to knowingly hold a being hostage to her own feelings. He had half wanted Molly to take advantage of the fact that she had Sherlock to herself while she was in heat, but he remembered how much she cared for him. She'd hate herself if she harmed him in anyway.

So Billy had warned her to be a good girl and play nice with Mr. Holmes. He waited outside making sure she was good with him. Their interactions ranged on irritating at some points, but when Molly's scent hit the air, the true scent of her arousal, he had to get himself out of there. He warned all the other wolves, mostly males, to stay outside. Ivan had said he'd reign in the younger wolves. Billy had said he had to go out and scout.

In reality he was flushed and in need of something warm to devour. The hunt would not be satisfactory enough. He was hungry, but he still wasn't sure if the hunger pained his stomach or his loins. Smelling the scent of a female wolf was something that calmed him, though Sarah's scent verged on annoyance from its weakness. He grumbled at the mixing of scents in the apartment.

"Are you here to fuck me Billy?" Straight and to the point.

He glanced at her with clenched teeth. Her neck looked rather good. It certainly smelt appetizing though he wasn't sure in which way he meant to devour her. She was so incredibly weak, unwilling to give into her nature. Reclusive. This space wasn't the right choice for Molly to hide herself in.

"It's what you want right?" Sarah started to unbutton her shirt. He saw her breasts peeking from under a lace white bra. He felt himself harden from the mix of the sight and the scents in the room. "She's driving all the males crazy."

"Can't . . . can't help it." He backed against the television set. She stepped closer.

"It's my duty to satisfy you like some whore right? Mistress would want that."

"She's not like that, Sarah." Billy swore wondering why the wolf would even say that. "She doesn't want you to do anything you wouldn't want to." Sarah still swaggered closer. She put a chaste kiss on Billy's lips. He grumbled a growl.

"It's what you want." He tasted it. God he tasted it and he was angry for not smelling it sooner. She went to kiss him and he grabbed her jaw. He showed his teeth.

"When did Adler visit you?" He rumbled low and harsh.


	9. Chapter 9

**Devil In My Head:** "Kitten has claws." Irene mused petting the delicate hairs on Sherlock's chest. "Come to save him?" Molly snarled feeling her human teeth extend into the more purpose driven wolf fangs. "Kitten has fangs. And he's mine." There was no thought as she lounged. Werewolf AU Sherlolly

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters belong to me. Moffat. Gatiss. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They got these characters.

**A/N:** Thank yous and hugs to lavanyalabelle and Renaissancebooklover108 who reviewed last chapter.

A flashback and some badassery!

**Chapter Nine: **

Sarah wasn't happy about the living arrangements, but there was nothing she could do. Molly was the alpha. _The_ alpha. Every wolf could smell it on her, that birth into power she oozed from every pore. When Sarah had been human and first met the pathologist while picking up her boyfriend at the time, John Watson from the morgue she had thought her meek, innocent, and withdrawn. It was strange to see that the opposite was true. Molly was the strongest person she knew. Sarah could see that the meekness was a bit of an act, but her sweetness was very evident.

She fiddled with the keys to her flat thinking that she should change her sheets. Molly would like that, clean sheets for her second night in Sarah's place. She had not been forced to the couch as much as she realized that was her place. The alpha deserved a nice bed to lay her head down in while she dreamed of her human Sherlock Holmes. Sarah's foot nudged her front door opening it.

Her eyes widened. She could smell the scent of a strange wolf inside. The power of the scent caused her to whimper and take a step back. She swallowed down her fear. She knew full well there was only one likely possibly of who that scent belonged to. She pushed the door open wider.

"Welcome home, Ms. Sawyer." Irene Adler said. Her skin was pale making those signature red lips pop out. She had on a black laced high collared dress. Her cleavage was apparent in the V-neck. She was leaning against her couch, a sheet wrapped in her arms. "So lovely for Molly to have you sleep on the couch." She sniffed at the sheets.

"You shouldn't be here." Her voice was barely a whisper. Sarah's heart quickened at a rate she was positive wasn't safe. Irene's eyes cast down for a moment. Her hands released the sheet.

"Oh, dear." Her steps were loud toward her.

The blonde's eyes went down as she began to shake. She heard stories. Moriarty had fears of this woman. The homeless wolves that had taken her in had hoped she never came back to London for fear that their throats would be torn from them. She had to remind herself those were all males who shivered in fright of the former queen of the London wolves. Perhaps Irene was better to those of her gender. She felt the woman's hand pet her cheek.

"You shouldn't be scared." Sarah looked up into her eyes. They weren't gentle, but they weren't calling for blood. "You aren't the one I want to hurt." She gave an inquisitive sniff against the woman's neck. She pushed her body against Sarah's snapping her wrist forward to grab and shut the door. She had her against it. The lower wolf had her eyes cast down, heart thudding loud. Irene scrapped an extended blackened claw like nail to her cheek. "But I could have some fun with you." She twisted her chin so that Sarah was forced to look at her. The raven haired woman had her lips. Sarah kissed back with such longing and need. "Such a wetness on your lips Ms. Sawyer." Irene held the woman's hips in place when they broke. Sarah leaned forward to kiss her again. Irene stayed her.

"More." Sarah's eyes pleaded.

She felt the need for comfort. Her pheromones were like Molly's except when Irene touched her, kissed her it was like a shot through her entire body. Whenever Molly laid hands on her to comfort her it was a numbing that relaxed her. This was adrenaline, need, desire. It made her anxious beyond repair.

"Sweetheart, no." She shook her head. "Not ever."

"Why? Please. I want it. I want to feel it. I need it. Now." Her voice grew rapid and more bold. It made Irene giddy. Sarah could smell the confidence wash over her.

"Of course you want more, sweet little thing." Irene trailed her hands upward over Sarah's work clothes catching her breast in a tight squeeze. The young wolf whimpered. "I'm an alpha, not one born of two, but an alpha all the same." She leaned into her ear to whisper. "I could make you do anything for me. Couldn't I, little one?" Sarah nodded.

"Anything. I'll do anything, just give me another. I need more of you." Her hands went to grab Irene's face.

The woman's hands snatched her wrists forcing them against the door. Nails embedded themselves into her flesh. She didn't whimper, but she wanted to. The pain was so much, but if she did she knew Irene wouldn't give her that adrenaline rush again.

"You're too weak to taste." She pressed her body against her. "It'd be no fun dominating you sexually. No fun playing with your limbs. You're so broken." She pouted her lips together. "I've already had my fill of Molly's scent here, but you can do me a kindness and tell me where she is keeping that lovely Mr. Holmes. I'd love to strap him down and give him a good ride before snapping off," She rubbed her hands over Sarah's fingers. "Each little finger on those strong hands. You've seen those hands haven't you Sarah?" Her eyes widened again in terror as she looked at Irene Adler. "Molly's going to have her way with Sherlock soon. No denying it. Her heat is in full now, but I'd like to keep an eye on her. Keep my eyes on him. Make sure she doesn't break my toy before I get a chance to play."

She gave Sarah a chaste kiss to make sure she stayed calm.

"I don't even need to know where he is." She pet Sarah's face, calmer now. "Just if the little thing has broken herself on him yet."

* * *

She was Molly when she was sleeping.

Sherlock could see it. She was nestled against him. Her head rested against his chest. Her fingers clutched at the sweatshirt he wore. Where her head rested he felt the heat, the sheen of her sweat. Molly had been resting soundly against him yelping in pain every few moments before squeezing her thighs. He watched her carefully, mouth dry.

He had done his best to make her pain as fleeting as possible, but there was only so much he could do. His lips were sore and his saliva had begun to run dry. His fingers were pruned from working against her wetness hard enough to make her quiver and rest at ease. Sherlock had never done that to a woman, but he had become quite an expert that day trying to make Molly quake in the right way to release all that pain she felt.

She had urged him to lie beside her to rest. He remembered the sigh of satisfaction on her breath. Her eyes had become heavy as she nuzzled into his chest. He knew outside the dogs were barking, her dogs, her wolves, her underlings. They were chomping at the bit to get to her, to taste her like he had. He had what they wanted, but he knew like they knew he wasn't worthy of the devotion she showed him.

He had done nothing to earn it. He simply existed, worked, and perhaps sometimes, not meaning to, insulted her. She'd ask him questions and he'd wave them off as prattle from the hopeless little lovelorn morgue girl. He had begun questioning whether that was an act, but he found that when he was with her, alone, she was at peace with who she was. She wasn't weak. She was simply Molly. She could drop her walls around him. She didn't have to be the strong alpha she needed to be. She didn't have to control ravenous hounds. Molly could rest her head at his heart and fall asleep hearing it beat for her.

He knew it beat for her. Sherlock was sure Molly was unaware of it. Affection wasn't something Sherlock Holmes wore on his sleeve for all to see. He couldn't let anyone see that he cared. Sentiment was a default found on the losing side. Being the daughter of a leader and a leader herself Molly would understand that. Though here he was trying not to hold onto her, trying to lie flatly on his back and not look at the strong woman resting so soundly against him. She could embrace her feelings, so why couldn't he?

Why was he not strong enough to tell her?

Muttered yells were echoing from the downstairs. He twisted his head toward the entry way to see though not enough to wake Molly. He didn't recognize the voices. He heard the smacking of flesh and then a yelp. There was a ticking of silence before an angry set of footsteps barreled up the stairs. Sherlock shifted knowing full well he should be on alert. He stood stunned at the entry way teeth baring over plumped lips. The large over bearing wolf's eyes were dilated completely. His nails extended long, curved, and black. His eyes caught Molly.

"You aren't supposed to be here." Sherlock shifted. His voice was confidant in his assumption. The board shoulder wolf took a tempting step in.

"Neither are you." The rumble erupted from his throat. He took one step too many toward Molly. Sherlock shifted to his feet. Finally the wolf's attention was drawn to the human for all of a second. His shoulders were hunched as Molly squeezed her hands around the empty sheets and whimpered.

"You shouldn't be here." Sherlock said knowing full well his words would not mean anything.

"She needs to be fucked." The wolf sniffed the air. "I need to fuck her." He went to grab her thighs. Sherlock tried to be fast enough to stop him. He jumped on his back, but the wolf was strong and fast enough to simply take the hood of his sweatshirt and sling him around to the floor. "You want me to deal with you, boy. I'll rip you apart. I'll fucking tear those lips that sucked on my mistress' cunt and shove them into your throat until you choke." The wolf crushed his hands around Sherlock's neck quickly and hard. "You don't deserve her."

"Ivan." The sound of the male's voice was enough to make the wolf's head turn.

Soft fingers held onto to each wrist that was around the human's throat pulling them off with strong quick yanks. Sherlock could see Billy standing at the entry way bracing himself. Molly slowly grabbed his throat pulling him away from Sherlock far enough so that he could not reach him if he tried. She stroked the wolf's windpipe as he swallowed, his veins pulsed at the thick flesh.

"Why did you have to do that?" Molly's tone remained stern yet sweet. Her eyes, black with a new hunger, peered to Sherlock. "Are you alright?" He nodded.

"Too good." Ivan twisted his body to face Molly. His hands clutched at her thighs, his nose buried into her exposed flesh. "I need to get inside. You need to be fucked." He looked up at her. Molly only looked at him with a dim sense of peace. "I need to fuck you."

"Sorry, love." Her hand raked through his thin dirty blonde hair. "But you've broken too many rules." Her thumb traced his lower lip. His eyes closed in the ecstasy of her taste. "Unfortunately I don't think you'll ever learn your place." Her eyes looked up toward Billy. Sherlock barely had time to register Billy's presence. He grabbed Ivan's neck and twisted. The body fell at Molly's feet partially.

"Good boy." Her voice trembled slightly. Her hand was clinging to Ivan's hair.

"Had to be done." Billy assured Molly. "Had to be done, he was going to rape you if he had the chance. If I wasn't here he would have killed Mr. Holmes. You did the right thing."

"No you did Billy." Her eyes caught his. Her fingers first stroked his face then held onto his cheeks.

"You don't have to be the one to kill all the time." Billy's fingers pet her face softly. She leaned forward laying a chaste kiss on him with a saddened smile. Something panged within Sherlock to see Molly kiss someone, even if it was in a pure innocent fashion. "I'll bury him. You rest."

He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Molly winced almost in pain at the action, eyes tightly shut. Sherlock saw Billy turn to him. He bent down to take one of Ivan's arms to drag, all the while staring at the human trying to catch his breath. He moved himself toward Sherlock leaning down in a squat to address him.

"Take good care of her, please." Sherlock could see that it was a request and a plea all wrapped into one. He wanted Molly to be happy despite whatever his feeling may be.

Billy dragged the body off leaving Molly and Sherlock alone. He slowly got to his feet to see the alpha standing in the same spot legs trembling. Her eyes were down looked at the spot where Ivan had died. He slowly came over to her. When he was close enough to see and hear her soft sobs he quickened his pace to embrace her. He forgot what anyone would think or say. He decided to embrace how he felt in that moment as Molly would.

He held her close to him.

"Everything's alright." He thought he might never let go. "I'm here. I'm with you."


End file.
